


Searching For Sanity

by Miko no da (Miko)



Category: Boku no Chikyuu wo Mamotte | Please Save My Earth
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-05-01
Updated: 2005-12-01
Packaged: 2018-03-05 06:07:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 26
Words: 95,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3108887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miko/pseuds/Miko%20no%20da
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In order to find happiness in this life, Issei must first come to terms with who and what he is. An exploration of sexuality and gender identity.</p><p>(Posting OLD fics from my defunct website)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dinner in the Nishikiyori household was always a quiet affair. It was held late, to give Issei's father a chance to get home from the office where he spent the majority of his time. The senior Nishikiyori was a very reserved and proper man, who heartily approved of the British belief 'children should be seen and not heard'.

So for the length of the meal, the only sounds to be heard were chopsticks clicking, and occasional murmured requests to pass this or that condiment around the table. As a child, Issei had always found it calming, a quiet time to relax after the hectic schedule of the day. As a young adult, however, it now often seemed to hang over his head like a katana waiting to fall.

Once dessert had been served, conversation was permitted once again. The two children, brother and sister, would be asked questions about their day, their classes, homework, and any other relevant subject that came to their father's mind.

It was the 'relevant subjects' Issei was now worried about. He fidgeted with his tea mug, turning it slightly with each pass of his fingers over it, staring into the barley tea as if it might shelter him from the upcoming questions. Father was almost done with his sister, and that meant it would be his turn any moment... if only he dared excuse himself and leave the table before it reached that point! But his father would only corner him later.

And here it came. "Issei," his father rumbled, turning penetrating dark eyes on his son and eldest child. "How is your schooling?"

"It's fine, father," he said, long practice allowing him to keep his voice level and bland. "We got the results back from our first set of mock exams, today. I was in the top five percent."

"Excellent!" The rare word of praise was something Issei had once cherished from his father, but now it was overshadowed by the more important questions he knew were still coming. "And you're still planning to take the exams for Tokyo University?"

"Yes, father," he acknowledged. His father asked him that every day, as if afraid Issei would suddenly change his mind about his first choice of schools. Issei wasn't entirely certain he was a good enough student to pass the difficult Toudai exams, but he was certainly more than willing to try, especially since his father was going to foot the bill if he got in there.

"And that friend of yours? Ogura?" His father watched him closely, and Issei wasn't totally able to conceal his surprise. This was a new, unexpected line of questioning.

"I... haven't spoken to Jinpachi in some time, father," he said softly, which was regrettably true. Although they still saw each other in class, they no longer spent much time together outside of school. After the moon base had been destroyed and Rin had regained his sanity, all of the former scientists had gone their own ways. Some new friendships, such as the one between Issei and Sakura, had remained, but some old friendship had dissolved. Jinpachi had never really been comfortable around his long-time best friend after the day Issei had broken down and kissed him.

"I believe he's planning to apply to the larger schools as well, but that he expects to be accepted to one of the other universities in the city," he continued. His father nodded, as if pleased to hear that. Issei couldn't imagine why he would be. Both his parents had met Jinpachi numerous times, when the other boy had come over to study or just hang out, and both of them had always seemed to approve of his redheaded friend.

"And have you found a girlfriend yet, Issei?" his father rumbled, and Issei managed not to flinch through long practice. This was the line of questioning he'd been expecting - and dreading.

"No, father," he replied, as he always did. And as always of late, his father frowned in response. It seemed that the frown got deeper with every passing evening. "I've been spending quite a bit of time studying for the mock exams," Issei added, on a whim of inspiration.

That seemed to mollify his father a bit. "Good boy," the older man nodded. "Education is important, very important. The school you get into will determine the course of the rest of your life, you know that." Issei merely nodded; he and his sister had both heard the lecture a thousand times before.

"But," his father startled him by continuing, "senior high school is also a very important time in a young man's life, for building relationship skills. Companies like their up-and-coming employees to be married, settled down and stable."

"I... I'm sure I'll find someone in university, when I don't have to worry about studying so hard for the exams," Issei extemporized hastily. His father was leaning forward, frowning, with his eyes narrowed. It was the expression he always got when one of his children had said or done something he didn't feel was appropriate.

"A decent plan, but not well enough thought out," the elder Nishikiyori said, tapping the table with his hand for emphasis. "High school is the time to be practicing the social skills that will serve you well later in life. Besides, women who go to university want their own lives, their own careers. That's not the sort of family a good company is looking for an employee to have. You want the girls who never go farther than high school, who are content to stay home and raise their family after that, as is proper."

Issei had no idea what to say to that. Of the only two females he counted among his friends, Sakura would undoubtedly fall into the former category. She was the most headstrong, determined woman he'd ever met. Alice was exactly the sort of woman his father was describing as an ideal wife, but she was quite firmly attached to Rin. And other than those two, whom he was connected with mainly because of their shared, secret past... he couldn't think of a single girl he'd ever met who had held his interest for more than a few minutes at a time.

"I... there... all the girls at my school already have boyfriends, except the ones that would be even worse candidates for a 'proper wife', father," he finally said, a little desperately. His sister and mother were both giving him sympathetic looks, though neither of them did anything to attempt to deflect his father's attention away from him. His sister knew something about Issei's preferences, having caught him sobbing into his pillow one night over Jinpachi's rejection. As far as he knew his mother didn't suspect anything, but she was naturally an empathic sort of person. He took after her, in more than just looks.

"Well, of course they do," his father agreed, leaning back in his chair. "You waited far too long to begin." Issei let out a little, relieved sigh, thinking he was safe for the night. His heart nearly stopped when his father continued, "One of my colleagues has a daughter two years younger than you. She's a lovely girl, a good student and an accomplished shamisen player."

"Father..." Issei said slowly, hoping he was understanding the situation incorrectly, "you're not trying to matchmake, are you?"

"Of course not," his father huffed. "Matchmaking is a woman's game. This is business, pure and simple. We've already arranged a dinner for the two of you, next Thursday evening. It will be both families in attendance, of course, for propriety's sake. If the two of you take to one another, and I'm sure you will, then further arrangements can be discussed from there."

His father smiled, looking quite self satisfied. "She's already seen your picture, and is quite smitten with you. You'll have no trouble gaining her attention."

Issei had been huddling in his chair during this entire speech, his dinner churning in his stomach so that he had to fight to keep it down and not embarrass himself. His mind was spinning in frantic little circles, trying to find a way out of this neatly laid trap. "I'd really prefer to find my own g-girlfriend, father," he protested, tripping a little over the word. "Arranged marriages are so... impersonal..."

For he had no doubt that an arranged marriage was exactly what his father had been talking about. Or the negotiations leading up to one, anyway. And his father was very much the sort of person who, once he'd latched onto an idea, held onto it with the tenacity of a wolverine.

"There are still plenty of arranged marriages happening every day, despite what people your age would like to believe about these Western ideas of love before duty," his father told him brusquely, in the tone that meant he would hear no arguments about his decision. "Why, your mother and I had never met until a month before our wedding, and look how wonderful our marriage has turned out."

Wildly, Issei looked to his mother, hoping for support, but she only smiled gently at him. "You'll see, Issei," she assured him. "True love comes with time, over years of knowing and caring for someone. Even if you don't love her right away, you will after you've been together for a few years." She turned the smile on his father, and it brightened when he smiled back at her.

Despairing, Issei searched for a way out of this. He could, he supposed, simply go along with it, and then pretend - or contrive - an abiding dislike between him and his proposed fiancee. But that would only lead to his father finding another likely candidate, and he couldn't possibly convince his parents that he had massive, unfixable personality conflicts with them all.

"I'm not ready for marriage," he tried, clenching his hands beneath the table, out of sight of his father. "The commitments and responsibilities involved would bog down my studying!" he concluded, certain that this would at least give him a stay of execution.

"There's no rush for you to get married right away, dear," his mother said, and he groaned internally as he realized she was already sold on the idea. "You can be engaged until it wouldn't interfere with your studies."

"And you'll be amazed at how much better you can focus with some steady... feminine company to help relax you," his father added, clapping him on the back to indicate the sort of connotations to 'feminine company' that he couldn't say aloud in front of the women present.

Issei felt even more sick to his stomach, and was absolutely certain he was going to throw up if he didn't end this _now_. In his panic and desperation, he let slip the one argument he never should have allowed himself to even think of in front of his parents. "But father, I'm not interested in women that way!"

There was dead silence around the table for a long moment; just long enough for him to realize what he'd just blurted out, and clap his hand over his mouth in horror. His sister was staring at him wide-eyed, and his mother looked like she was torn between hysterics and fainting. Trembling, Issei glanced at his father.

The older man was simply sitting in his chair, looking at his son with a steely gaze. "What did you just say?" he demanded.

Wildly he considered lying, trying to find some other, less evil interpretation for his too-hasty words. In the end, however, he realized that now was as good a time as any for the truth to come out. They would always be suspicious from now on, no matter what he said.

"I said, I'm not interested in women," he replied, straightening his back and clenching his fists in his lap. He couldn't quite bring himself to look his father in the eyes, fearing what he would see there, so he focused his gaze on his tea. "I have no intentions of ever getting married, nor the desire to do so."

There. It was out. He'd admitted the worst, and now it was up to his family to decide how they would react to it.

His mother, perhaps unsurprisingly, burst into tears. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed, shoulders shaking. His sister threw him an indecipherable look that was part pity and part fascinated revulsion, then leaned over to try to comfort their mother.

Finally, the response he'd been half expecting came from his other side. Something hard impacted him on the side of his head, sending him sprawling out of his chair. From the floor he looked up, tasting blood where his cheek had been cut against his teeth by the impact of his father's hand.

The older man was standing over him, seething with barely contained rage. His father detested people who showed their emotions plainly in public, even when 'public' was only family members. For him to look this angry... Issei had never seen him this furious. He cringed as a sharp kick was delivered to his ribs.

"You see?" the words were directed not at Issei, but at his mother. "This is what comes of coddling the boy! I warned you right from the beginning not to indulge him. Letting him cry as he pleased, permitting him to wear those fancy clothes he liked... and now this is the result!"

His mother stood and caught his sister's hand, pulling her hastily out of the room, down the hall towards the bedrooms. Issei's heart ached at the tacit abandonment; his mother was washing her hands of him, leaving him to his father's discipline, too afraid of her husband to stand up to him for her son's sake. Assuming she even wanted to, after what he'd revealed about himself.

"You..." Another kick to his ribs, and then he cried out as his father grasped him by the hair and pulled him up to a sitting position, forcing him to look up into the angry black eyes. "No child of mine will ever indulge in such abominations. Admit that you were wrong and apologize, and we'll get you married off to this girl and let that be the end of it!"

It was tempting to just give in and say the words, but the spectre of Enju was rising within him, crying with despair. As an empath she had been harshly treated on their home planet, abandoned and despised by her own people. Now it was happening again, in another time and another place, with only a different name on the 'abomination' in question. Issei knew he would never be able to live the lie for long. He'd die of despair, first.

"No," he croaked, eyes narrowed fiercely. He might be the passive one among his friends, but all of the former moon scientists knew well that he could be amazingly determined when pressed to it. "No, I won't take it back! It's what I am, father! I..."

He choked as a hard fist connected with his jaw again, and this time he saw stars and the taste of blood in his mouth was much stronger. He heard something crack as his jaw burst with pain, and he cried out, tears flowing freely.

"You are disgusting," his father pronounced, tossing him back to the floor as if he couldn't stand to touch his own son any longer. "You are no child of mine. Get out of here. I don't ever want to see you near here again. And if I hear that you've ever brought your corrupting influence anywhere near my daughter, I'll do worse than simply break your jaw, is that understood?"

It was no more than he'd dreaded when he'd planned how to tell his parents part of the truth about him; it wasn't even the worst case scenario that he'd imagined, but it certainly came close. Dragging himself to his feet despite the sharp ache in his ribs and the ribbons of agony threaded through his jaw, Issei staggered towards the front door.

Judging he was moving too slowly, his father grabbed him by the neck of his shirt and hauled him forwards, dragging him right off his feet. He cried out again, one final wordless protest as his father opened the front door of their house and literally threw him out onto the sidewalk, sending his sneakers clattering after him. As the door slammed, Issei hysterically supposed he should be grateful his father had even allowed him the shoes. It was clear he wasn't going to be given the chance to retrieve any of his other belongings.


	2. Chapter 2

It was a cold night, even for early January; there was snow on the ground, though not much of it. Issei could see his breath in the air as he stumbled mindlessly along the sidewalk, but he didn't really register the cold despite the fact that he was wearing only a thin cotton shirt.

All other sensations were blotted out by the throbbing pain in his jaw that got worse with every step he took, and he couldn't seem to get his thoughts to follow any sort of logical path. Vaguely, he was aware that he was probably in shock and really ought to do something about his broken jaw and possible broken ribs, but he couldn't follow the thought long enough to find a solution to the problem.

His father had kicked him out. No, his father had _disowned_ him. It was the reference to 'my daughter' rather than 'your sister' that really drove that point home for Issei. Wryly, he wondered if his parents' reactions would have been better or worse if he'd let slip his _other_ secret instead of this one. Was it worse to know your son was gay, or that he believed he was the reincarnation of an empathic alien woman who'd lived on the moon?

It didn't matter now. Nothing really mattered any more. His life was in pieces, and he didn't know where to even begin to put them back together again. Any thoughts of attending university were gone; he wasn't sure how he was even going to manage to finish high school.

An odd hissing noise from his left drew his attention to the side, and his eyes widened when his sister stepped out from between two bushes and threw herself at him. He cried out as her weight impacted his bruised torso, and she pulled away slightly.

"Issei! It's not really true, is it? Father didn't really throw you out, did he?" Her grey eyes, so like his own, searched his face. Something in his expression must have answered for him, because she let out a sob and buried her face in his shoulder, as she'd often done when they were children.

"They were yelling at each other when I left," she told him, and his eyes widened. His parents rarely fought, as his mother was predisposed to give way to their father in all things. He'd never heard her raise her voice, certainly not to his father. "It's awful, Issei... she wants him to let you come back, but then she wants to send you to a hospital somewhere so they can 'fix' you."

The momentary hope that had formed when she told him his mother wanted him back enough to stand up to their father for it was crushed at her last words. Painfully, he forced himself to speak despite the throbbing in his jaw. "I won't go back," he said firmly. "Not to that. I don't want to be 'fixed'."

Which wasn't entirely true... there had been many times when he'd prayed to Sarjareem to free him from the tangled mess Enju had made of her life when she'd asked to be reincarnated as a male. If it had only been a chance to be 'cured' of this helpless attraction to his own sex, Issei might have taken it, even knowing the sorts of methods that would be employed.

But if they got him into a psychiatric hospital, sooner or later one of the psychologists would discover the secret of the moon scientists. Issei wasn't sure what it would be classified as - delusions, he supposed - but they would never let him be until they had 'cured' him of that, too. And he didn't want to lose his belief in his life as Enju. He knew the moon dreams were real - how else could you explain the fact that they'd all had the same dreams? Or the psychic powers many of them possessed, including Issei himself?

The two siblings stared at each other for a long moment, before his sister sighed and her shoulders slumped. "I know," she said miserably. "I don't blame you. I wouldn't want to go through that either. But I'm going to miss you so much!" she burst out, her eyes welling with tears.

Words being too painful for him at the moment, Issei just lifted his hand and stroked her hair, as she leaned against him and sniffled. He'd miss her too, irritating as she could be with her unending 'crush' on him.

"I brought your bag," she said when she finally pulled away. She ran back to the bushes, then re-emerged a moment later with a full duffle bag. "I tried to get everything you'd want to take with you. And I stole some money out of mother's purse - it's not much, but it'll get you through a couple of days."

He was touched by her thoughtfulness. If he'd been thinking straight he would have half expected her to come after him to say goodbye, but for her to be practical enough to bring his things with her was a minor miracle. "Thank you," he managed, hugging her carefully once more. "Now, go home, before they realize you're gone."

She nodded and wiped her eyes, turning to head back into the bushes. Just before she vanished, she turned and said, "Call me! Promise?" He nodded and waved, and then she was gone.

He picked up the bag, and started walking again. His thinking was a little more coherent now, at least. His jaw still throbbed though, and talking hadn't helped soothe the pain any. He needed help.

Finding a park bench, he sat down and set the bag beside him, rifling though it. She'd thrown a change of pants and a couple of his favourite shirts inside, and she'd even remembered socks and underwear. He blushed a little, picturing his sister going through his underwear drawer. At least he'd never kept dirty magazines there, unlike some boys he knew.

His hand brushed something metallic, and he withdrew it with a relieved sigh. She'd gotten his cell phone, and it was fully charged. He was certain his father would call the phone company and cancel the plan at the first opportunity, but it would have to wait until the office opened in the morning. For now, at least, he had the use of it.

He didn't need to use the speed dial to call Jinpachi's cell - it was faster just to punch the numbers in, he knew it so well. It rang twice, before his friend's voice came over the phone. "Ogura."

"Jinpachi..." Issei's voice came out a little mangled; it was getting harder and harder to speak past the pain.

"Issei?" Jinpachi was understandably surprised to hear his voice, especially at this time of night. It had been a long time since they'd been close enough to be calling each other at all hours, and quite some time since the last time Issei had called his friend unexpectedly. "Hey, good to hear from you," the boisterous teen continued before Issei could form another word. "I'm kinda busy right now, though... can it wait until tomorrow?"

"I..." Issei broke off, startled, at the sound of feminine laughter in the background, and a muffled command to 'get off the phone and get back here!' Jinpachi had a girl over? Or were they out somewhere together?

Mistaking his hesitation as agreement, Jinpachi laughed. "Okay. I'll see you in school tomorrow. Later!"

"Jin..." Issei didn't get any more out before the dial tone abruptly returned. Jinpachi had hung up on him. He pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it in shock. His best friend had _hung up_ on him, just when Issei truly needed him most. There had been a time, not so very long ago, when Jinpachi would have known something was badly wrong just by the tone in Issei's voice when he spoke his friend's name. And now...

Now, he was oblivious. The image of the phone wavered in front of Issei, and after a moment he realized it was because he was seeing it through a lens of tears. A sob escaped him, then another, and then he was crying for real, pulling his knees up to curl around them on the bench, instinctively trying to protect himself from any more pain.

It didn't help, though; the position strained his ribs, making him even more certain they were cracked, if not broken, and his jaw was jarred with every sob. He felt as if he could have just cried forever, feeling completely abandoned, but he forced himself to get a grip before he could hurt himself further. He _still_ needed help, and there was one more possible source for it.

Hands shaking, it took him three tries to get his phone to call Sakura's. If she turned away from him too, he was half tempted to just follow Haruhiko's example and throw himself in the river, even if it meant he'd never be reincarnated. Surely oblivion would be better than existing _alone_. All at once he had a great deal more sympathy for Shion.

In the past, Shusuran had always been the one Enju turned to for comfort when Gyokuran hurt her by chasing after Mokuren. Issei often found it both ironic and comfortingly familiar that Sakura had become his confidant in this life as well.

"Hello?" she answered her phone, and fresh tears escaped him.

"Shusuran..." Between his strangled sobs and the pain in his jaw, the name was mangled almost beyond recognition. It also wasn't what he'd meant to say, but it certainly got her attention.

"Issei?" she sounded startled, and he could hear music and laughter in the background. "Are you okay? Is something wrong? You sound awful..."

It hurt, more than a little, to know that his friend of only a year had picked up what the boy who had been his best friend for over a decade had missed. But at least she wasn't hanging up on him. "Sakura... I..." It was so hard to force the words out, to admit what had happened and how badly he needed her help.

"Something happen with Jinpachi?" she guessed, sighing. It was a reasonable guess on her part; that was, after all, the reason behind every other tearful phone call he'd ever made to her. "Need a shoulder?"

"I... need help," he confessed miserably. This time he needed considerably more than just a shoulder to cry on... he wished his problem was something as simple as all the past ones had been!

"How far are you from my house?" she interrupted him.

Startled, he replied, "Twenty minutes... maybe?"

"Good. I can be back there in fifteen. Meet me there - nobody else is home," she declared. "I've gotta go if I'm gonna catch the next train. I'll be waiting for you!"

With that she hung up, and he was once more left with a dial tone in his ear. This time, though, it had been preceded by an offer of help, even if it wasn't exactly what he'd been expecting.

Sighing, he slid his phone into his pocket and grabbed his bag, heading for the train station. She'd obviously been out doing something, probably at a party or out with her friends. The contrast between her willingness to ditch everything and help him without even knowing the problem, and Jinpachi's hasty brush-off, made his heart ache.

It was time, past time, he realized, for him to reassign the title of 'best friend'. Sakura had earned the title a while ago, but he'd clung to his status as 'Jinpachi's best friend', that being the closest he could get to the boy he loved. He wondered if Jinpachi still thought of Issei as his best friend, or if the redhead had long since stopped thinking of him that way. That thought, too, hurt him deep inside. It was a night for pain, it seemed.

The train ride was interminable; breaking his usual habit, he'd sought out a seat, feeling like he might faint with each jolt of the cars over the tracks. It was getting harder to think again, as he sank deeper into misery and despair. He wasn't even sure what he'd hoped Jinpachi and Sakura could do to help him; they could offer sympathy and comfort, but it wasn't as if they could fix the situation for him. Still, he got himself through the endless minutes of the ride by reminding himself that Sakura waited for him at the end, and that she at least would not hate or abandon him.

He didn't bother to get a cab from the station to her house. It was only a few blocks, and he'd need the money later, to survive. Walking proved more difficult than he'd expected, however, each breath sending stabs of agony into his chest as his ribs protested. He was going back into shock again, he suspected, when he realized the throbbing pain in his jaw felt oddly distant and unrelated to him.

He almost walked right past her house, but some instinct made him turn his head just in time to see the sign on the gate outside. Opening it he staggered forward, the bag slung over his shoulder seeming heavier with each step. He pressed the doorbell, then leaned against the door for the added support it offered, trying not to give in to the black spots that were dancing in front of his eyes, threatening to overwhelm his vision.

The door abruptly opened away from him, and he heard Sakura's startled exclamation as she caught him and helped him stay upright. "Issei? You idiot, why were you leaning against the door?"

Then he stepped far enough into the light for her to see his face, and her eyes widened in horror. "Oh, gods! What _happened_ , Issei? What, did you kiss him again and he punched you?"

"It wasn't... Jinpachi..." he grated out past the pain. "Father... threw me... out..."

"They found out?" she asked, and he nodded slightly. "Oh no. Oh, Issei... I'm so sorry. Maybe he'll change his mind after he's thought about it for a while."

Issei shook his head, knowing his father would never change his mind about something so fundamental to his beliefs. The action made him dizzy, however, and he realized he was getting lightheaded. "Hurts," he whimpered.

"I bet," she agreed sympathetically. "That's one hell of a bruise." She lifted a hand to probe at it, not realizing it was anything more than discoloration. He flinched away from the light touch almost violently, gasping as the bones shifted and pain exploded through his skull.

Her eyes went wide again. "Issei! Is your jaw _broken_?" He nodded slightly, panting and leaning against the wall for support. "You... you _idiot_ , you shouldn't have come here, you should have gone to a _hospital_ and had me meet you there!"

Which was, of course, exactly what he should have done, he realized, but he hadn't been thinking rationally. Still wasn't, if it came to that. "Come on," she declared, digging through a drawer in a table near the door. She emerged with a ring of keys. "My parents left the car behind when they went on their trip, so I could use it if I had an emergency. I'd say this qualifies. I'm taking you to a hospital."

She grabbed him by the wrist and marched out the door, slamming it behind her with enough force to make him wince. He hoped that anger wasn't all directed at his stupidity. Having Sakura truly angry with you was an experience nobody ever wanted to have.

"Issei..." she glanced back and saw the way he cringed, and her eyes softened. "Oh, Enju. You never learn, do you? Not about love, and not about me. I'd never hurt you, you should know that." She touched his uninjured cheek gently, then her eyes hardened again and she tugged on his wrist. "Now, let's go! Before I throw you over my shoulder and _carry_ you there!"


	3. Chapter 3

They kept him in the hospital overnight for observation. His ribs were only cracked, thankfully, and required nothing more than tape to hold them. They wired his jaw shut as well, to keep the bones aligned while they fused. Sakura wasn't happy about being forced to leave him alone, but by then Issei was so high on painkillers he was hardly aware of what was happening.

When he woke the next morning she was already there, slumped into a chair by his bed and flipping idly through a magazine that looked like it had probably come from the waiting room. Still more than a little drugged, he tried to say her name, and discovered that it was very difficult indeed to speak when your jaws were wired together.

The noise he made in the attempt was enough to get her attention, though. She glanced up, then smiled when she saw his eyes were open. Tossing the magazine aside, she scooted forward in the chair and hovered over him. "Hey. Welcome back to the world of the living. I was starting to think you wouldn't wake up."

Still unable to speak coherently, he caught her hand and squeezed it instead, smiling a thank you. She blushed slightly and squeezed back, and continued holding his hand when he didn't try to pull away.

"I guess it's pretty hard to talk, huh?" she asked, and he nodded, rolling his eyes. Chuckling, she turned to dig in her purse, which was nearly large enough to be considered a proper bag. "Just a sec, I think I've got... yes!" She emerged with a pen and a notebook, slapping them down on the table over the bed triumphantly. Then she fiddled with the bed until he was sitting mostly upright.

 _Thank you,_ he wrote, then looked at her in surprise when she laughed.

"Sorry," she apologized, shaking her head. "It's just, I should've known you'd have such perfect handwriting."

Issei's lips twitched. _Feminine, you mean,_ he accused with a sigh. He'd heard it before; teachers had always praised his delicate, precise brushstrokes, and it had been just one more thing for the bullies to tease him about.

"A little," she admitted. "But we already know the reason for that. Enju was good at calligraphy, and she had the best handwriting on the station." Issei nodded, eyes far away as he saw a brief vision of a page covered in beautiful, swirling alien script.

"So, what are you planning to do now?" she asked, and he closed his eyes and sighed. Opening them again, he started to write.

 _I have no idea,_ he admitted. _Just covering the hospital bill is going to take more than..._

She stopped him by covering his hand with hers again. "Don't worry about the hospital," she insisted. "No, I'm serious," she cut off the protesting noise he made. "I've got a trust fund from my grandparents, and my parents let me do pretty much what I want with the interest, so long as I don't touch the principle. Usually I just buy clothes and entertainment, but I think I can live for a month or two without any new clothes, if it'll help you out." Her voice turned wry, and she gave him a look.

He sighed and nodded, knowing from experience it was pointless to argue with her further. Once Sakura got her mind set on something, nothing short of the Apocalypse would deter her.

 _Then, I've got enough for a room and food for a few days. I'll have to find a job, probably quit school,_ he wrote, trying to hide how much pain the thought caused him. He enjoyed school in a way most students didn't, and loved to learn new things. He'd been desperately looking forward to university, and not only for the excuse to move away from his family and into a dorm.

Sakura didn't seem any more pleased with the idea than he was. She sat frowning, tapping her bottom lip with one nail while she thought. "It'd be a crime for you to drop out of school now," she finally said. "You're so close to graduating. How good are your grades? What'd you get on the mock exams?"

 _Top five percent,_ he wrote, and her eyes widened. "You're kidding! Gods, Issei, that's amazing! I had no idea you were that smart!" He blushed faintly, and shook his head. It wasn't intelligence, so much as the fact that he'd had nothing much to do with his time but study since he and Jinpachi had stopped being close. That, and the hope that studying would provide him with an excuse for why he hadn't brought any girls home to meet his family.

"All right, there's absolutely no way you're dropping out of school now, not with marks like those," she said, standing to pace back and forth in the narrow space between the bed and the window. He watched her, a little bemused, feeling rather like he'd just handed his life over to her somehow. "I assume you were aiming for the top schools?" At his nod, she continued, "Would you be willing to lower your expectations? With grades like those, if you apply to some of the middle-class universities, you could get a scholarship. Maybe even a full scholarship, if you studied really hard between now and then."

That was something he hadn't considered. He hadn't needed to, since his father was planning to pay his way through school. Issei narrowed his eyes. He had no lasting attachment to the idea of attending Toudai, beyond the prestige involved. A degree from a lesser school was better than no degree at all, and he had no chance of getting a scholarship to a school like Toudai.

There was just one small problem... _A scholarship won't help me in the meantime,_ he reminded her. _I still need to eat, and somewhere to sleep. If I try to work enough to support myself and go to school, I'll have no time left to study. If I just work and study, I'll miss learning everything from the second half of senior year, which is really important. I can't do all three._

"No, but the two you're going to do are 'school' and 'study', not 'work'," she declared, twisting to face him with her hands on her hips. "Not if I have anything to say about it. Let me talk to my parents. I'm sure I can convince them to let you board with us. We've got an extra room that's just being used for storage right now, and if you helped out around the house, that would cover your food and stuff."

He blushed, scandalized. _I can't move in with you!_ he protested. _The rumours... your reputation..._

"Oh, screw my reputation," she cut him off, waving a hand as if to dismiss the concern. "I have no intention of settling down to be a good little wife until after I've got my degree and worked for a few years, anyway. And I'm not going to marry someone who would be put off by the fact that I helped out a friend in trouble."

 _What about your parents?_ he pointed out. _Won't they be suspicious about us? And won't they want to know why I need to move in?_

"We'll just tell them the truth. No," she grabbed his hand and squeezed it when he instinctively recoiled in panic. "It's okay, Issei, I swear. My uncle is gay, and it was my dad who convinced his parents to reconcile with him. They won't have anything against you. And it will convince them more than anything else we could say that there's nothing going on between us behind their backs."

Issei ducked his head, fighting another blush, knowing she was probably doing the same. They were both aware of the attraction she had for him... he could hardly have missed it, being an empath. But there was a tacit agreement between them not to bring it up or let it interfere with their friendship. He devoutly hoped she would find someone else to love someday soon. He didn't want her to end up feeling about her friendship with him the way he felt about his with Jinpachi. He wouldn't wish that trapped, endlessly frustrated feeling on his worst enemy, let alone his best friend.

Her infatuation with him was new though, not something carried over from their past lives, so he thought there was a good chance she'd get over it like any other unrequited crush.

In the meantime, he was torn by her offer. Having a place to live would mean he would be able to finish school, as he so desperately wanted to do. But he felt it would be a terrible imposition on her family, not the sort of thing that could be made up for by doing odd jobs around the house.

She plucked the pen from his fingers and tapped the frown lines between his brows with it, grinning at him. "Think about it after we've talked to my parents. There's no point in worrying about it until then. For now, they won't be back until tomorrow afternoon, so you can stay with me that long without worrying. And it's Saturday morning now; you missed today's classes, but there's no school tomorrow."

He smiled wryly and stole the pen back. _I thought I was the telepath?_ he wrote, teasing her. She laughed. _All right, I'll stay with you tonight, at least. We'll worry about the rest tomorrow._

"Great!" she exclaimed, bouncing lightly on her toes. "I'll go get a doctor then, so they can clear you to leave."

It didn't take long for him to get the 'ok' to go, though he received a couple of prescriptions for painkillers and several warnings about what he could and could not do without straining his cracked and broken bones. He changed back into his clothes, wincing every time he had to raise his arms, and finally met up with Sakura in the hospital lobby.

On impulse, he caught her in a hug before she had a chance to say anything. She squeaked in surprise, but then held him back just as tightly, though mindful of his ribs. "Thank you," he said, speaking slowly and clearly so she would understand him. Briefly he wished he was a strong enough telepath to just do all his communicating without resorting to vocal speech. It would have made the coming six weeks considerably easier.

"You'd do the same for me," she asserted, and he smiled and nodded. That was no less than the truth, and they both knew it. Laughing, she hugged him again before grabbing his hand and tugging him out the door.

It was sunny outside, the warmth of the sun a sharp contrast to the chill of the night before. Most of the snow had melted again, though Issei's breath still fogged in the air before him. Glancing at the angle of the sun, he realized it was only about noon. "You missed school?" he asked, wincing when the words came out mangled again.

She seemed to understand him well enough, though. "You're more important than a half day of school, idiot," she told him, smacking him on the shoulder. "You think I'd have been able to concentrate on school while I was worrying about you?"

His smile softened somewhat, though he could feel pain tugging at the edges of the expression as well. "You shouldn't worry about me so much," he said, turning his hand in her wrist to catch at hers and squeeze it again. Sometimes it amazed him that he felt as close to her, and as easy with her, as he did. Truly, they'd only known each other for a year.

And yet, they'd known each other for far longer than that. Like so many aspects of his life, he had to wonder how much was a result of his own feelings, and how much was the influence of Enju. He couldn't imagine there ever being anyone else he'd feel comfortable enough with to just take their hand, male or female. For one thing, his empathy was much stronger when he was in physical contact with someone.

But Shusuran had often touched Enju in friendship or comfort, and eventually the empathic woman had gotten used to it, even come to enjoy it. And likewise, Issei found that it rarely seemed awkward to touch Sakura in innocent, friendly ways. Especially as she'd gotten better at controlling her reaction to her crush on him.

"Let's go home," she said, tugging on his hand to lead him towards the parking lot. He went willingly, still feeling uncertain about the idea of calling her house 'home', but more than happy that she'd cared enough to make the offer.

By the time they were ensconced in her living room, debating what to do for the day, he was already feeling better about his situation. Being around her often had that effect on him; no matter how miserable he started out when he got together with her, her indomitable spirit always buoyed him.

He curled up in one corner of the large couch in her family's living room, and she sprawled over the rest of it, leaning against the far arm and looking at him over her raised knees. "So, do you want to talk about it?" she asked, no longer avoiding the subject now that they were in private. "Or would you rather just do something and try to forget about it?"

"There's not much to tell, honestly," he said, finally starting to get used to talking around the constriction in his jaw.

"But how did they find out?" Sakura persisted, her eyes locked on his. Her expression was full of concern. "I mean, it's not like you advertise it, or anything. As far as I know, the only people who even have a clue that you've ever been interested in guys are me and Ogura."

Issei shrugged and looked away, unable to meet her gaze straight on. "My father was trying to set up the beginning negotiations of an arranged marriage for me. He was concerned that companies wouldn't be as happy to employ or promote me if I wasn't 'settled down with a proper wife'."

His tone came out more bitter than he'd intended, and he pulled one knee up to hug it to his chest. It was a defensive posture, and he knew it, but it made him feel better even though it put pressure on his ribs.

"Arranged marriage, huh?" Sakura sounded sympathetic, and a little scornful. "Honestly. Some people are still living in the past. I take it you weren't enamoured with the idea?"

He snorted. "You could say that. I threw out every argument I could think of, but they had answer for them all. Except the last one. I was panicked, I didn't think about what I was saying." Eyes dark with remorse and anger, he stared down at his foot. "My father implied that I'd be... more relaxed with 'steady female companionship', and I blurted out the fact that I wasn't interested in women that way."

Sakura was silent for a long moment, digesting that in her own way. "Issei... don't take this the wrong way, but are you sure you're not? I mean, I know you're in love with Ogura. But we already know that a lot of that is Enju's influence. What about other people? Have there been guys other than him that you've been interested in?"

Issei blinked, startled. He'd never really thought of it in those terms, before. He was in love with Jinpachi, therefore he was gay. Wasn't he?

"I... I can't think of any other men I've been attracted to," he admitted after a moment of hard thought. "I mean, I can appreciate that, say, Haruhiko is attractive, but I've never thought of doing anything with him."

"Yeah, but Haru is Shuukido, and Enju never had anything for him, so _that_ might be a carryover, too," she pointed out. "What about other guys? Just regular guys on the street?"

"Not... not really," he said, biting his lip. Had he been wrong, then? He'd thought he'd laid to rest the differences between his feelings for Jinpachi and Enju's for Gyokuran, but what if he'd been wrong?

Except... "I can't think of any women I've thought of that way, either, though," he concluded, sighing. "I guess when it comes right down to it, I've been in love with Jinpachi as long as my body has been aware of that sort of thing. Whether it's Enju's influence or not, I've just never looked at anybody else, except in an objective, aesthetic sort of way."

He felt a spike of disappointment from her, quickly shielded, and knew that she'd been half hoping he would realize that he'd been overlooking an attraction to her, hidden under his obsession with Jinpachi. In some ways, he was disappointed, too. It would have been so easy to just fall in love with her, and they probably would have been happy together for a long time to come. But life was rarely that simple.

"I'm sorry, Sakura," he said softly, and he meant it. If he could have chosen, he'd have willingly loved her. He already loved her, in fact, he just didn't desire her. Any more than Enju had desired Shusuran.

She looked startled for a moment, before a wave of pink came over her cheeks. "Don't be stupid," she said, embarrassment making her snap a bit. "There's no reason for you to be sorry. I suppose I'll have to work on my shielding, though, if you're going to be living here." She grimaced. "Unfortunately, I can't think of any way of having you teach my parents to shield without giving away more of our secrets than we're willing to."

"It's not necessary," he assured her. "My parents and sister weren't shielded, after all. I'm used to it. I only pick up things from you so easily because I know you so well, and we have an emotional connection."

She nodded, and dropped the subject, but he could see from the determined look on her face that she planned to follow through on her promise to improve her shielding. Well, he wasn't about to complain. It would make things easier on both of them, she was right about that much.

"So what happened after you said that?" she asked. He glanced up at her through his bangs, uncertain what to say. How did you go about explaining that your father had kicked the shit out of you, then literally thrown you out on your ass? Misinterpreting his look, she hastily added, "If I'm being too nosy, you know you can always tell me to get lost."

"You're always nosy, I'm used to it," he reminded her, smiling slightly. "It's one of your more endearing qualities... most of the time." She threw a pillow at him when he added those last words, and he held up his hands to fend it off, laughing. That started a pillow fight, which lasted for a few minutes as they scuffled.

Finally they broke off, Issei breathing in shallow little pants as he tried to both get enough air through his clamped jaws and not strain his ribs at the same time. "All right, no more of that, or I'm going to suffocate," he declared when he finally had his breath back.

Her eyes darkened at the reminder of his injuries. "Your father did all that? After he found out?"

"After I refused to take it back, or to give in and marry the girl he had picked out," Issei replied with a slight nod, his eyes drifting away from hers again. "My mother and sister left the room - he hit me a few times, then dragged me to the door and threw me out. He said..." His voice broke, and he cleared his throat before continuing. "He said if I ever came near his daughter, he'd do worse than break my jaw."

"Damn it." Sakura looked pissed off, as if she was half tempted to march over to his father's house and tell the man a thing or two. He smiled wryly at her display of protective temper. Shusuran had been like that, too, always wanting to charge off and 'explain' things to Gyokuran after he'd unthinkingly hurt Enju in some way.

"My sister snuck out with my bag," he said, still avoiding her eyes. "When I had collected myself a little, I called you, and you know the rest." He didn't mention the phone call to Jinpachi. He wasn't ready to talk about that 'betrayal' yet, or how it made him feel. Later, when it didn't hurt quite so much to think about the way his former best friend had hung up on him without even waiting for an explanation.

Since he wasn't watching her, he was surprised when he suddenly felt her against his side, her arms wrapping around his shoulders to hold him tightly. "You're always welcome wherever I am, Issei," she promised him. "No matter what I'm doing, or whatever the circumstances are. Always, understand?"

Unable to speak, as much because of the tears caught in his throat as anything else, he simply nodded and turned slightly so he could hug her back. He had no idea what he'd done to gain the loyalty and love of a woman like Sakura, in this life or his previous one. Whatever it was, it must have been good, because nobody deserved a friend as good as she was.


	4. Chapter 4

They managed to spend the rest of the day relaxing, for the most part. Sakura insisted on watching her J-Drama shows in the afternoon; within fifteen minutes Issei was both totally lost in the complex character interactions, and also totally hooked. He'd pestered his friend with questions about the shows until she'd laughed and dragged out her recordings of the earlier episodes, and they'd settled in to spend most of the day in unproductive TV watching.

They'd spent time together before, just hanging out or talking, but it was usually either the two of them out doing something together, or her comforting him after his latest Jinpachi-related heartbreak. This was the first time they'd just sat around at her house, and he found he was enjoying himself greatly.

Eventually they found they were dozing off and missing large chunks of the episodes, and they gave in and admitted defeat. "Why haven't we ever done something like this before?" Issei asked as he stood and attempted to stretch without straining his ribs. "It was fun."

Sakura stifled a yawn behind her hand, and chuckled. "Because it never occurred to me that you might enjoy it, honestly," she told him. At his bewildered look, she elaborated, "Issei, how many guys do you know who would enjoy spending an entire afternoon and evening watching a show that's entirely about relationship issues?"

He thought about that, and flushed, seeing her point. There was a reason these kinds of shows were targeted to young women. Most guys would have fallen asleep or tried to change the channel after about five minutes of watching a J-Drama.

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with you enjoying it," Sakura said, seeing and correctly interpreting his flush. She patted him on the shoulder. "There are plenty of guys who do like these shows. And plenty of girls who don't."

Issei shook his head. "Enju asked Sarjareem to reincarnate her as a male so she could be closer to Gyokuran. But she forgot to ask for her soul to become male, as well. It's frustrating, sometimes. I'll think I finally have a handle on what part of me is her, and what part of me is _me_ , and then I'll turn around and find something else about me that doesn't fit."

She blinked at him, tilting her head. "What makes you think you _can_ separate yourself from her that way, Issei? You talk like you're two separate people; actually, more like she's someone that just sits inside your head, distinct from you."

"I'm _not_ Enju," he insisted, frowning. "I may have the same soul she did, but I'm not her. I don't want to let her life and experiences influence my life or personality. I want to be _me_ , not her. The me I would have been if I'd never remembered anything about her life."

"I don't see how you can avoid having her life influence yours," Sakura replied. "Maybe you would have been different if you'd never remembered anything about her. I'm not so sure about that; Alice is an awful lot like Mokuren, and she doesn't remember anything at all other than that one brief glimpse. But whether or not you would have been different is a moot point, Issei. You _do_ remember things about her life, and by remembering them, they've influenced you just as if you'd experienced them yourself. Because you _did_ experience them, just not in this lifetime."

"But why are there so many aspects of my personality that are feminine?" he said, frustrated. "Surely it can't be that unusual for a soul to switch gender from one incarnation to the next. And I never had any problems until I started dreaming about her life."

"Are you sure about that?" she countered. "Did people start telling you that you'd changed when you started having the moon dreams, Issei? Did you find yourself doing things that seemed out of character? Or did you just start realizing _why_ you sometimes behaved the way you already did?"

"I..." Issei sighed and shook his head. "I don't know. It was too long ago, and too gradual a process. But whatever the result, I can't go back and change it now. That doesn't mean I have to be happy living with it, though."

She hugged him again. "And so long as you think of it that way, you never _will_ be happy living with it, Issei. You need to learn to accept yourself as you are - and that means accepting the part of you that is Enju, too, not trying to shut her away in a box."

Issei rubbed his face with his hand, carefully not touching the side his father had punched him on. "Sakura, please... can we not argue about this right now?" he asked wearily. He was exhausted, his pain medication had worn off a while ago, and the last thing he needed to be brooding about right now was the reason he was in this situation in the first place. He'd managed to forget himself and have fun while they were watching the TV; now he felt like he'd been dragged down and mired in quicksand again.

"I'm sorry, that was thoughtless of me," she apologized immediately, biting her lip and touching his arm in concern. "You look like hell, no offence. Want me to get your pain medication for you?"

"Please?" he agreed, and hugged her briefly. "I know you're only trying to help, Sakura. But I guess there are some things I just have to work out on my own, and my feelings about Enju are part of them."

"I worry about you, that's all," she said, patting his arm again before heading off to retrieve his medication from where he'd left it in the kitchen.

She came back carrying a pair of pyjama pants as well, and a toothbrush still in its wrapping. "I grabbed a pair of my dad's old pyjamas from his drawer, he won't mind," she said, handing them to him. "And I don't know if you can brush your teeth with your jaws wired shut like that, but I figured it couldn't hurt to try."

"Thanks," he said, taking the items and vanishing into the bathroom to ready himself for bed. The medications were all liquid, since he couldn't swallow a pill at the moment. He'd already been warned that he'd have to subsist on protein drinks and other liquid foods until his jaw healed, and he wasn't looking forward to it.

He felt awkward wearing her father's pyjamas, but it was that or sleep in his clothes. His sister hadn't thought to pack sleepwear for him. He was going to have to spend at least some of his money on clothes; maybe he could find a thrift store or something like that, so it wouldn't be too expensive. At least he was able to use his own t-shirt as a top.

When he emerged from the bathroom, she was leaning in the doorway that led to her room. "I dragged the futon out of the closet," she said, stepping aside and gesturing for him to join her. "There's no way in hell I'm letting you sleep on the couch, not with your ribs as bad as they are."

He gave her a sideways look. "You're just bound and determined to ruin your reputation, aren't you?" he asked her, shaking his head. "I'll agree that I don't particularly want to sleep on the couch or the floor, but why not set the futon up in the living room?"

"Because, silly, that wouldn't be half as much fun," she told him, grinning. "By tomorrow night, once my parents have agreed to let you stay, we'll probably have cleaned out the spare room. For tonight, we're going to do the stereotypical sleepover thing and talk until we fall asleep."

"Sleepover?" he repeated, amused. He and Jinpachi had often spent the night at each others' houses, of course, but he couldn't remember ever attaching such a frivolous name to the activity.

"Sure," she said, catching his hand and tugging him into the room. He followed, bemused, and set his neatly folded clothes on a chair. Seeing the made up futon on the floor, he eased himself down onto it carefully.

Sakura, already dressed in her own nightgown, turned off the lights and crawled into her bed. It was a Western style bed, which put her a couple feet above him. There was just enough light from the moon shining through the gauzy drapes for him to see her as she propped herself up on her elbow, leaning over to see him.

He settled himself under the sheet and blanket, inhaling the crisp scent of freshly laundered linens. The futon was thick enough to be comfortable, and he was already yawning as the painkillers started to take effect.

"Issei..." Sakura's voice came to him softly through the darkness. "I'm glad you trusted me enough to come to me for help."

Issei smiled, though he knew she couldn't see it. "After everything you've done for me, how could I not trust you?"

"Everything I've done for you, or everything Shusuran did?" she asked, a little pointedly. "It wasn't me you asked for on the phone."

"Sakura, I thought we weren't going to talk about that any more," he said, his voice dropping with unease. She was right, and he couldn't deny it. It had been Enju's instinct to turn to Shusuran that he'd been following the previous night. Well, he'd never claimed that all of Enju's influence in his life was for the worse. His friendship with Sakura was definitely one of the benefits that had come from remembering his past life.

"Just something to think about," she said, lying back in her bed. "You know I love you, right?"

For an awful moment he thought she was breaking their long unstated agreement not to speak about the unresolved feelings she had for him. Then his empathy kicked in, and he caught the uncomplicated affection and concern she was radiating, and he relaxed. "Of course," he replied, and this time his smile showed in his voice. "And I love you, and always will."

"I just want you to be happy with your life, Issei," Sakura told him. "Because I love you. The same way Shusuran wanted Enju to be happy. And all I see is you making yourself more and more miserable as you try to split yourself in half."

"What would you have me do, Sakura?" he asked with a sigh. "I'm not trying to make myself miserable, I assure you. But the more I fight against the things in my life that make me unhappy, the worse they seem to get."

"Then maybe you should stop fighting them and learn to accept them, instead," she said, reaching down to touch his unblemished cheek with gentle fingers. "Maybe fighting against them is what's making you unhappy in the first place."

"Giving in to my feelings for Jinpachi did nothing but strain my friendship with him," he pointed out. Despite the harsh tone of his words, he leaned into her touch, closing his eyes and letting the contact amplify the sweet feelings of love he was receiving from her. One of his hands crept up and wrapped around her fingers.

"That's not what I meant," she said, and she sounded as frustrated as he felt. "I'm not explaining myself right. Hell, I'm no psychologist. I'm just telling you what I feel, and what I've seen. It seems like those of us who fight most against our past lives, are the unhappiest in this one."

"Alice won't even acknowledge that she is Mokuren, but she's happy now with Rin," he said. "I'll learn to balance myself in time, Sakura. In the meantime, I'd really rather not think about it for the moment."

"All right," she conceded gracefully, turning her hand to twine her fingers through his. "I'm sorry. I just worry."

"I know," he replied. "I'm an empath, remember? I can feel it. And I do appreciate it, Sakura. Don't ever think I don't."

"Well, I can't say I'd be too happy to have you poking at my psyche, so I suppose I can understand," she said, laughing softly. "Just remember that if you ever need me for anything, I'm here."

"I wouldn't be here now if I didn't know that already," he pointed out with a laugh of his own. He yawned, and made a pained noise when his wired jaws protested his body's instinctive attempts to part them.

"That didn't sound pleasant," she commented, and brushed his face one last time before pulling her hand back up onto her bed. "Get some sleep, Issei. I'll see you in the morning."

He made an affirmative noise, and lay there staring up at the ceiling, listening to the sound of her breathing even out as she fell away into slumber. Sleep had never come easily to him, even when he was exhausted.

When he was certain she was asleep, he shifted into a sitting position and crossed his arms on the edge of her mattress, resting his chin on them as he watched her. In sleep she looked delicate, more vulnerable. The sheer force of her personality was what made her so vibrant in the daytime; now it was missing, leaving only the fragile shell of her body behind.

Thinking of what she'd asked him earlier, about whether he'd ever been attracted to anyone but Jinpachi, he tried to study her both objectively and subjectively.

Objectively, it was easy to admit that she was pretty, even beautiful, though not in a classic sense. Her features were a little too strong for the strict definitions of beauty, but he doubted she had any lack of admirers. Whether or not they'd be willing to brave her sometimes abrasive personality was another matter, of course.

Subjectively... that was more difficult to judge. He'd already acknowledged that he loved her, of course. And he couldn't claim it was 'brotherly' love, because what he felt for her wasn't at all the sort of irritated affection he felt for his younger sister. Studying her face now, he tried to imagine what it would be like to kiss her.

It was hard to picture. Partly that was due to a simple lack of knowledge; his one and only kiss to date had been his over-hasty experience with Jinpachi. That had been mostly instinct and desperation on his part, and Jinpachi had been far too startled to participate, even if he hadn't been disinclined.

Of course, drawing on Enju's memories gave him more than enough fodder for his imagination. She'd done far more than merely kiss Gyokuran, and it was easy enough for him to picture that. For that matter, he'd never had any trouble daydreaming about kissing Jinpachi. But he still couldn't quite wrap his mind around the idea of desiring Sakura that way.

So, there was his answer. He wasn't attracted to her, however much he loved her. He sighed silently, a rueful smile on his lips. Perhaps he should start praying to Sarjareem to transfer his affections from Jinpachi to Sakura. It would make everything so much easier.

A slight hitch in her breathing drew his gaze from her lips to her eyes, and he was startled to see the faintest hint of glitter between her lashes. She was watching him, her eyes barely open, trying not to alert him to the fact that she was awake. For a long, awkward moment they stared at each other, then Issei blushed and looked away.

She didn't move, her eyes falling completely shut, and he took the opportunity to lay back down on his futon. His heart was pounding and his breathing was unsteady, and he struggled to calm both. Hopefully, that moment of stupidity and curiosity on his part wouldn't make things awkward between them in the future. The fact that she was willing to pretend she'd been asleep through his contemplation of her meant that they could at least try to act like it hadn't happened.

What was he thinking? Nothing had 'happened'. It wasn't like he'd kissed her, even if he had been thinking about it. He shifted so he was wrapped around his pillow, sighing into the soft fabric covering it. _Sarjareem, why couldn't you have made things easier on both of us?_ he asked his silent goddess ruefully. _Sometimes I wonder if you enjoy tormenting us._

Immediately he felt guilty for the uncharitable thought, and he silently asked for forgiveness. Sarjareem was a benevolent goddess, but she let her people make their own mistakes, and learn from them. It was his own fault that he was trapped in this male body; she had only given him what he'd asked for, if not quite what he'd intended. All he could do was hope that he'd be wiser when the time to chose his next incarnation's form came around.


	5. Chapter 5

Issei was a little stunned by how willingly Sakura's parents took him in. He'd expected protests, or reluctance at the very least. He was going to be a rather large burden to them, after all. But the moment they'd discovered the reason for his injuries, he'd been unofficially adopted into the family.

A week later, his head was still reeling from it all. To go from the rejection and hatred of his own parents, to the acceptance and welcome of these total strangers... well, it was dizzying, to say the least. As Sakura had predicted, they had the spare room cleaned out for him by Sunday night, set up the futon, and pulled an old dresser out of the attic where it had been stored.

They'd even helped him arrange to transfer into Sakura's school. He could have continued to go to his old school, and transferring mid way through his last year was certainly a hassle. But the travel time between Sakura's home and his old school was prohibitive; that, and he hadn't wanted to risk provoking his father's anger by continuing to attend the same school as his sister.

By the time the next Saturday afternoon rolled around, Issei was finally starting to lose the edge of his bewilderment. Sakura preceded him into the house, and they both dumped their book bags in the foyer.

"Mom! Dad! We're home!" she called, kicking off her shoes as he followed suit.

"Welcome back, you two," her mother replied, entering the hall from the direction of the bedrooms. She was wearing a formal kimono and had her hair swept up elaborately; she was fighting to close the hoop of an earring as she walked.

"Sakura, your father has been invited to a dinner hosted by one of the company presidents," she told them. "We'll be leaving shortly. It's in Kyoto, and it's likely to run very late, so we'll probably just get a hotel room for the night. We'll be back early tomorrow afternoon, unless we decide to do some sightseeing, in which case we'll be back in the evening. Oh, blast it, why won't this thing close?" she exclaimed, pulling the earring away and glaring at it.

"Let me, Kokusho-san," Issei offered, moving forward to take the earring from her. A moment later he had it through the hole and properly fastened, and he stepped back with a smile. "There you go."

"Thank you, Issei-kun," she acknowledged, smiling back at him. "You have very deft fingers." Turning away from him, she called back down the hallways, "Dear? If you don't hurry, we're going to be late!"

Sakura's father appeared, dressed in Western formal wear and fiddling with his cufflinks much the way his wife had been prodding at her earring a moment before. With a sigh, Sakura's mother moved forward and fastened the cufflinks, then quickly tied her husband's tie. "There. Now we're both ready. Shall we?"

"Have a good time," Sakura said, stepping up into the house and moving aside so they could pass. "Don't worry about us, we'll be fine."

Her mother smiled at the two teenagers. "Actually, it's nice to know that Issei-kun will be here with you, Sakura-chan. It makes me feel better, knowing that I won't be leaving you alone for once."

Her father pressed some money into Sakura's hands. "This is for entertainment, or if you want to order food tonight. Issei-kun, we're counting on you to be a restraining influence on her."

Issei blushed faintly, and Sakura laughed and shooed her parents off. "Go on! You don't want to be late." The two adults swirled out the door, and when it closed behind them Sakura and Issei were left in the odd silence of the house.

Issei looked at his friend, a little surprised, and she laughed. "They do this most weekends," she confided. "That's why they weren't here last weekend when you showed up, either." She glanced at the money in her hands, and grinned. "And they left enough for both of us, too. C'mon, I say we go out tonight. You need the distraction. Don't think I haven't seen the way you've been brooding this week!"

"I haven't been 'brooding'," he protested, following her farther into the house. It was a lie, and they both knew it - when she wasn't actively distracting him, he had a tendency to fall into negative thoughts about his life and the circumstances that had led him to the present situation.

"You have, and you know it," she countered. "How does going out to a club sound? Do you have ID?"

He nodded, and she looked at him, a little surprised. He shrugged. "Jinpachi got us both some, quite a while ago. I've never had any problems passing with it."

"I should have known he'd be the one getting the two of you into trouble," she replied, laughing again. "All right, good enough. We'll go out, then. Dinner first, and then there's a great dance club not far from here."

Issei frowned, shaking his head. "I'm not really big on clubs or dancing, Sakura," he said. "It's not my sort of thing."

"Yes, but it's my sort of thing, and you wouldn't want me going out by myself, all undefended, would you?" she asked, batting her eyes at him. He swatted her arm, and she chuckled.

"You did well enough before I was around to 'protect' you, if what I heard over your cell phone when I called you last weekend is any indication," he replied. But he already knew he was going to give in. She _had_ been indulging him this last week, always letting him choose the activities. It was only fair for him to go along with her plans in return.

Except... "I don't have anything to wear, though," he said, frowning. "Just my new school uniforms, and the jeans and t-shirts my sister snuck out to me."

"Jeans will be fine," she said, waving her hand. "We'll find you a top from my closet. You're built narrow enough to be able to fit my stuff, and I've got some tops that will probably look better on you than they do on me. Nothing girly, I promise."

He shrugged, a rueful grin on his lips. "The girlier it is, the better it would probably look on me," he acknowledged with a sigh. "All right, just let me get changed."

Twenty minutes later he knocked on her door, having taken a quick shower to wash off first. He was dressed in one of the two pairs of jeans his sister had packed for him; they were older, but not as worn as they might be because they were really a size too small for true comfort. That made them just tight enough to be acceptable as club wear, however. He still had the towel draped over his shoulders, which hid most of his chest; the bandages he'd re-wrapped around his ribs covered the rest, and he didn't see the point of wearing a shirt when he was just going to have to take it off again to change into whatever she picked for him.

"Come in!" she called, and he opened the door. She was seated at her vanity table, using a curling iron on her hair. She smiled at him in the mirror, and gestured at the bed. "Have a seat. I pulled out some of the shirts I thought would look good on you, so feel free to start trying them on."

There were half a dozen tops spread out over the comforter on her bed, and he examined them as he sat on the edge of the mattress. Most of them were earth tones, the colours that looked best against Sakura's colouring. They would make him look ruddy, or just sallow, unfortunately.

"Try the black one," she suggested, apparently divining his thoughts. "You look good in black, your skin is so pale. Or the white one, maybe, though it will probably make you look washed out."

The white shirt was a silk button up shirt, which was just a little too far on the safe side of 'feminine' to qualify as a 'blouse'. He pulled it on, but shook his head almost immediately. "It's a little too see-through," he said, looking down at his chest. "You can see the bandages through it."

"Mmm, I hadn't thought of that," she admitted. "The black one, then. Though it might be a little translucent too."

He picked up the black top, feeling the material slide through his fingers. It wasn't cotton, exactly; looking at the label, he saw that it was a cotton and lycra mixture. He pulled it on over his head, wincing slightly as the struggle to get his arms into the sleeves made his ribs protest.

Once he had it settled, he stood and looked at his reflection in the mirror, past her head. It was tight against his skin and slightly see through, the loose knit of the material creating a very faint mesh effect, but the bandages were close enough to skin tone that they weren't obvious behind the dark fabric. The sleeves were a loose, sheer fabric, the gleam of his pale skin easily showing through the translucent material. Studying the effect in the mirror, he decided he liked it.

"Okay, that looks about a hundred times better on you than it does on me," she declared, swinging around in her seat to smile at him. "You are so keeping that. I'll never be able to wear it again, it'll just make me feel inferior."

"Don't be silly," he protested, blushing hotly. "Black just isn't the right colour for you, that's all. You look good, too." She did; she was wearing a light brown mesh top over a darker brown tank top, and the colour made her cheeks and hair look redder than usual. The curls she'd added to her hair made it frame her face in an appealing manner, and also made her look both older and more sophisticated.

"I'm almost done," she told him, turning back to the vanity. "Just need to finish my makeup, then we can go."

He looked at the bewildering array of jars and tubes on the table in front of her, and shook his head. "I'll never understand makeup," he declared. "There's just so much of it, and it seems so complicated."

"Spoken like a true male," she said dryly, and laughed. "I seem to recall it was Enju giving Shusuran the makeup lectures, before. There you go, that's one thing that's changed."

"I don't remember that," he admitted. "There are a lot of things I still don't remember about that life. I wonder if we'll ever remember it all?"

"Who knows?" she replied, shrugging. He watched, fascinated, as she applied various powders and liquids to her face. The transformation was subtle; she wasn't the sort of girl to layer makeup on heavily, and she used natural shades of colour. But there was a distinct difference between her appearance with and without makeup.

"Ready?" he asked, when it seemed like she was done. To his surprise, she shook her head.

"Nope. Now it's your turn," she informed, him, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Issei drew back, eyes wide. "My turn? What are you talking about? I'm not wearing any of that!"

He scooted away when she only smiled and stood, padding towards him. "Oh, stop," she scolded him. "It's not going to kill you, and it'll look good on you, trust me. I'm not going to put you in blush and lipstick, Issei. Just a little eyeliner. You'll see."

"Absolutely not," he said, standing and backing away more quickly as she continued to advance. Part of his endless struggle with Enju lay in ignoring the ignoring the occasional feminine urge to be beautiful; wearing makeup definitely fell under that category. "Sakura..."

His protest was cut off by the sound of her phone ringing, and she broke away, laughing. "Sakura," she answered it, and her eyebrows went up in surprise at the response. All Issei could hear was a deep voice, identifying the caller as a male, but her next words made him freeze in place. "Ogura! This is a surprise. What's up?"

She listened for a moment, her eyes gentle on Issei as he collapsed back down to sit on the bed, wrapping his arms tight around himself. He was still stung by Jinpachi's abandonment from the week before, and it still hurt a lot to think about his former best friend.

"Hang on just a second, will you? I've got another call coming in," Sakura said abruptly, and hit a button on her phone. Instead of continuing to speak into it, however, she lowered it and tilted her head at Issei.

"He's calling to ask if I've heard from you," she told him, and he squeezed his eyes shut. "He said you never showed up to school this week, and your parents hung up the phone on him when he tried to call to find out if you were okay. Do you want to talk to him?"

He shook his head, his throat clogged with unshed tears. "No," he said, his voice husky. "Not really. Besides, he probably wouldn't be able to understand me with my jaws wired shut. You're just used to it, and you can see my expression to help you interpret what I'm saying."

"True," she acknowledged. "What do you want me to tell him?"

"Just... just tell him that you've heard from me and I'm okay, but that I switched schools and you don't know anything else," he finally said. "I'll call him myself when I can talk properly, if I'm up to dealing with him."

He opened his eyes to see her giving him an odd look. "What happened?" she asked, and he winced as he remembered he'd never told her about the aborted phone call he'd made to Jinpachi the night he was thrown out of his house.

"Long story, and I don't want to go into it right now," he said, and she nodded understandingly.

Bringing the phone back up, she hit another button and said, "Hey, Ogura. Yeah, I heard from him about a week ago. He said he was changing schools, but he didn't tell me why. No, he didn't give me a new phone number for him... I didn't realize his cell wasn't working." She listened for a moment, then sighed. "If I hear from him, I'll let him know you called, okay? See you later."

Hanging up, she shoved the phone back in her purse. "He's worried about you," she told him, and he shrugged.

"I know," he said softly. "I just can't face him right now, Sakura. He... I called him first, for help, before I called you. He was out on a date, or something; he never let me get a word out, and hung up on me after telling me we could talk in school the next day."

"Ouch." She winced, and sat beside him, hugging him lightly. "That must have hurt. You know he didn't mean it, though. If he'd known you were in trouble, he'd have come to help you."

"He never gave me the chance to explain," Issei replied bitterly. "You knew there was something wrong the moment I spoke. And not just because I called you Shusuran by mistake, either."

She nodded, not bothering to deny it, and just hugged him for another long moment. Finally he turned and hugged her back, drawing a deep breath. "You know what? I've changed my mind. Put whatever you want on me. I need to get over him, and I'm not going to do it by hiding in my room or refusing to go out where I might meet someone else."

"That's the spirit!" she cheered, slapping him on the shoulder as she smiled. His empathy let him feel the twinge of sadness she felt at his words, but she was very good at covering it up. He was careful not to let his own sympathy for her pain show through in his expression; that would only make it awkward when she realized he'd picked up on her feelings.

She stood and grabbed what looked like a soft pencil crayon off her vanity table, then returned to sit next to him. "Close your eyes," she instructed, taking his chin in her off hand. He obeyed, and had to fight not to flinch when he felt the point of the pencil press against his eyelid. It was harder to stay still than he would have thought; then again, having something pointy near your eyes was the sort of thing anybody would flinch from.

"There," she announced when she was finished. "Take a look in the mirror." She stood, giving him room to move.

He turned so that he could see himself, and blinked at his reflection. The liner wasn't really noticeable, except in the dramatic difference it made in the way his eyes looked. The dark lining made the paler grey of his eyes stand out from his face, instead of fading into the paleness of his skin.

"You don't need anything on your eyelashes, that's for sure," she commented, replacing the pencil on the table. "I know women who'd kill to have your eyelashes. Hell, I'm one of them! Guys have all the luck."

"I suppose that's one way to look at it," he said, chuckling softly. Standing, he caught her in another hug. "Thank you, Sakura. For everything. I'm going to be spending the rest of my life paying you back for all you've done for me."

"Don't be stupid," she said, swatting him. "You'd do the same for me, and knowing that is payment enough. Now, let's go! We're going to go out and have a blast tonight, and forget all about any problems we have. Agreed?"

"Agreed." He smiled back at her. "Lead the way!" She caught his hand and tugged, pulling him towards the front door, and he followed, laughing. Sakura was right - they both needed the time to relax, and Jinpachi or no Jinpachi, he was going to have a good time. And, more importantly, make sure she had a good time, too.


	6. Chapter 6

The club wasn't what Issei had been expecting. Actually, he wasn't entirely certain _what_ he'd been expecting; something dark and too noisy to hear himself think over, he supposed.

They had no trouble getting inside, even though neither of them really looked quite old enough to pass for twenty. It was obvious to Issei that the bouncers were just a formality, something the owners could point to as an attempt to weed out the underage kids if they did happen to be raided by the police.

Inside, the first room they came to was what Issei mentally dubbed 'the drinking room'. There was a long, polished mahogany bar, with half a dozen bartenders behind it serving drinks of all colours and flavours. There were stools at the bar, as well as tables and groups of tables scattered throughout the room. Double doors at the back led to a hallway, and every time they swung open the music got louder. Even so, it was quiet enough for the patrons to be able to talk, though they still had to raise their voices.

"First thing's first," Sakura declared, pulling him towards the bar. They'd been holding hands pretty much since they'd left the house; partly that was an effort not to be separated by the crowds on the subways and sidewalks, but partly it was just because it felt nice for both of them.

"You're not planning to get drunk, are you?" he asked, wrinkling his nose. He wasn't a prude, exactly, but neither did he fancy the idea of having to carry a passed out Sakura home. For that matter, he wasn't too keen on the idea of passing out himself. He'd been drunk enough to be sick, and it wasn't an experience he wanted to repeat.

"Not drunk, just buzzed," she reassured him. "It's more fun to dance if you're a little blurred, but getting sick isn't fun by any standards. No worries. What do you want?"

"I've never had anything but sake," he admitted as they came up to the bar. The array of bottles was truly staggering, and he didn't have a clue where to start.

"Do you like sour stuff, or sweet?" she asked.

"Sour, I suppose," he said after a moment of thought. "Too sweet and I'll get sick even if I'm not drunk."

She ordered for both of them, and handed him a bottle of 'hard cider' a moment later. He tried it, and found that it actually tasted rather good. Unlike sake, the cider flavour covered the alcohol quite effectively. Which meant he'd have to be more careful about watching how much he drank, but at least he wouldn't be trying to get the taste out of his mouth all night.

They drank the first bottles sitting at one of the tables, talking about school and everything that had happened over the last week. 'Talking' consisted mostly of Issei listening to Sakura chatter, and occasionally inserting a reply at the appropriate moment, but he was more than used to that.

The cider was stronger than he'd thought; by the time they were done the first round and grabbed another set of bottles, he could already feel the beginnings of a flush on his cheeks. Sakura wasn't showing any signs beyond a slightly manic glitter in her eyes, however.

"C'mon, let's go to the dance floor," she suggested, catching his hand once more and tugging.

"If you keep leading me around by the hand, I'm going to feel like I'm either about four years old, or your pet dog," he told her, laughing as she blushed. When she tried to tug her hand away, embarrassed, he tightened his grip minutely and smiled until she relaxed again.

"I'd hit you, but one of my hands is occupied and I don't want to spill my drink," she threatened, brandishing her bottle at him.

"If you spill your drink on me, I'll dump mine on you, and then we'll both smell awful," he countered, grinning. "Now are we going to go dance, or what?"

"C'mon, boy, heel," she commanded, earning a mock growl from him. They went through the double doors, and found themselves in a short hallway that contained the washrooms. At the far end was another set of doors, through which the music was even louder.

Going through those doors brought them to a room that was a little more like what Issei had initially expected. It was brighter than he'd thought it would be, with pulsing coloured lights flickering over the sunken dance floor, but there were plenty of shadowed corners as well. He blushed and looked back towards the centre of the room when he caught sight of some of what was going on in those corners.

The music, thankfully, was quite good, albeit not the sort of thing he would normally choose to listen to. The beat was hard and steady, but there was actually a melody over it, rather than the awful remixed, repetitive 'dance music' so many clubs played.

He let Sakura lead him out onto the dance floor, though he felt uncomfortable the moment he set foot on it. He'd never been much for dancing, and didn't really understand the process. He always felt like he was making an idiot of himself when he tried to dance.

"Stop worrying so much!" she called to him, leaning in close to make herself heard. At his surprised look, she chuckled. "It's written all over your face. Ninety percent of the people on the floor look like idiots. Nobody cares - just dance and have fun!"

It wasn't quite that easy for him, though Issei gave it his best shot. After two songs, he gave up and tapped her shoulder. "I'm going to go stand and watch," he called, and she nodded.

"I'm going to stay out here for a while," she replied. "I'll join you when I'm tired, or you can come back out when you feel like it."

Smiling at her, he made his way off the dance floor. Luck and good timing allowed him to snag a chair at a two-person table that had just opened up, and he settled in to watch the sea of humanity, sipping at his drink.

Sakura was actually a decently good dancer, he realized, watching her. She moved well to the beat, and her movements were both graceful and coordinated. She wasn't the sort of dancer who had people moving aside to give her room, but she had nothing to be ashamed of, either.

Issei noted with amusement that now that he was no longer present, several boys were working their way closer to her, trying to get her attention. He had to fight off a brief impulse to go back down to 'protect' her from them; she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, and if she needed help, she'd ask for it.

By the time he finished half of his second bottle, the alcohol in his system was definitely starting to take effect. There was a pleasant flush throughout his body, and he felt more relaxed than he had been to start with. Unfortunately, as he'd discovered the one previous time he'd been drunk, alcohol also lowered his ability to shield out the emotions of people around him. He hadn't been in such a crowded place the last time, and he'd forgotten about that particular side effect.

Sighing, he finished off the bottle and decided against getting another. The last thing he needed was to be caught up in the feelings of the people around him, though it certainly would have had the effect of distracting him from his own thoughts. Still, in a place like this, the prevailing emotions were lust and a subtle sense of desperation, neither of which he needed right now.

He leaned back in his chair, stretching and shaking his head slightly, trying to get feeling to come back into his face. There was an odd numb sensation to his features, which was most likely from the alcohol. A nearby spike of emotion caught his attention; it was desire, which should have just blended into the background, but it almost felt like it had been directed at _him_.

Glancing over automatically, he saw a small group of people looking his way. Both of the girls were watching him and smiling enticingly; he blushed and started to look away again, embarrassed. It hadn't really occurred to him that he would have people watching him the same way they watched other attractive people in the crowd. He'd been something of a wallflower for most of his life, despite his 'pretty' looks.

Before he'd turned away completely, however, something else caught his attention; the girls weren't the only ones watching him. Their single male companion had also been staring, though less obviously than his friends. Issei looked back at him, wide-eyed with surprise, and caught another faint spike of emotion before the other boy looked away.

Now, _this_ was a possibility that really just had never occurred to him. If he'd sat down to think about it, he'd have been able to predict that some of the girls present would surely find him attractive. He was pretty, after all, and plenty of girls went for the kind of androgynous looks that he had. But... other males?

Well, and why not? It wasn't as if he was the first man on the planet to be attracted to his own sex. There were others out there, he knew that on a theoretical level. He'd just never encountered any; at least, not that he knew of.

Sweeping his gaze around the room, he saw several other people looking his way, and while the vast majority were girls, not all of them were. Flushed with both embarrassment and pleasure, Issei smiled softly to himself. Maybe going out tonight had been a good idea, after all. It was nice to have it confirmed that not every guy would reject him the way Jinpachi had.

"What are you smiling at?" Sakura's voice came from beside him unexpectedly. He jumped a little, then turned his smile on her.

"Nothing," he said, though he was sure his expression gave his every thought away. "Just enjoying the attention."

"Attention?" Looking around, Sakura grinned. "Ah, I see. Not used to being admired, are you? You deserve it, the way you look tonight. And the flush from the drink doesn't hurt, either."

"Done dancing?" he asked, deciding to steer the conversation in safer directions. She shrugged, and plopped down in the seat across from him.

"For the moment. I was getting overheated. And I was done my drink, too. You want another one?" she asked, and he shook his head.

"No. If I have any more, I'll start to lose my shielding," he said, a bit regretfully.

Her eyes widened. "Oh. I never thought of that. Damn, that's too bad. You having fun, though?"

"I am, actually," he confirmed with another smile. "I like watching you dance, you're very good." She blushed faintly at that, and rolled her eyes.

"Well, I'm going for another drink," she announced. "You coming with, or do you want to stay here and keep basking in the attention?"

Now it was his turn to blush. "I'm staying," he declared. "I might even try dancing, now that I feel a little less inhibited."

"That's the spirit!" she said, patting his shoulder. She stood and headed for the doors back to the bar, and he leaned back in his chair to contemplate the dance floor.

It was a little intimidating, really; all those people, so many of them better dancers than he was. Still, there was no way he'd improve by just sitting here. And Sakura really had looked like she was having fun out on the floor.

He made his way down to the steps, and found a relatively uncrowded corner of the floor to dance on. His movements still felt awkward to him, but eventually he began to at least be able to match the rhythm of the song, and started to lose himself in the music.

People brushed against him with every beat, and at first he found it disconcerting. He was even more distraught the first time he felt someone deliberately pat him on the ass, and it brought a fierce blush to his cheeks. Looking around, though, he could see that it wasn't an uncommon occurrence; plenty of people were using the excuse of the close quarters on the dance floor to snitch a feel here and there. He decided that so long as nobody got _too_ fresh, he'd tolerate it, and even enjoy the attention a little.

Sakura returned after a few minutes, throwing herself wholeheartedly into the rhythm. Issei didn't have the energy to match her; after a few songs he caught her eye and nodded towards the hallway. She gave him a thumbs up and kept dancing, and he made his way off the floor.

The alcohol was making itself felt in other ways now, and he made a quick trip to the men's room. Looking in the mirror above the sink, he was surprised by his own appearance; cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling, mussed hair, and the dark eyeliner making him look more dramatic than usual. He grinned at himself, thinking that he looked a bit like someone who'd just been thoroughly fucked. At least, his expression certainly matched Enju's memories of her own appearance after spending time with Gyokuran, though without the ultimate air of smug satisfaction.

On his way back to the dance floor, he found his way blocked by three men who looked like they were probably college seniors. They were heavily built for Japanese men; the athletic sort who were probably on half a dozen sports teams, Issei thought to himself. He stepped aside to allow them to pass, and was surprised when they stopped in front of him.

"So, you are a guy," one of them said, a sneer in his voice. Issei tensed slightly, his eyes narrowing as he registered the tone. He'd been picked on by more than enough bullies in his time to recognize them when he saw them. "And here we were thinking you were just a flat-chested woman."

"Pay up, Hideo," another one spoke up, jabbing a third in the ribs. "You bet he was a girl, you owe me two thousand yen." The loser grumbled, but dug into his pocket for his wallet.

The first speaker, apparently the ringleader, took a step forward and leaned against the wall, trapping Issei between his arms. "So what's a pretty boy like you doing in a place like this, hmm?" he drawled, and Issei had to fight not to turn his face away from the reek of alcohol on the man's breath. If he looked away, the man would probably take the opportunity to try to punch him, and Issei wanted to avoid a fight if possible. He could handle a couple of drunk college boys, but there were enough of them that he wasn't entirely certain he could win a fight. Especially since he was already injured.

"Looking for other pretty boys to screw him, of course," the man who'd won the bet proclaimed with a nasty smirk. "What else does his kind ever want? Hell, look at him, he's even wearing makeup."

"I don't want a fight," Issei stated calmly, making certain the nervousness that was settling in his stomach didn't show up in his voice. "Surely you've got better things to do than harass me. Why don't you just go finish getting drunk, and leave me alone?"

"Tough words from a pretty boy," the ringleader snorted, leaning in ever closer. Issei shifted his balance, readying himself for a possible attack, more grateful than ever that Jinpachi had dragged him along to the dojo and insisted he learn martial arts to better defend himself. "We don't like your kind around here, pretty boy. The girls are too stupid to realize they don't have a chance with you, and you're so damn pretty they all like you."

"And of course, it would never occur to you that maybe we'd choose someone like him over someone like you because he has both brains and manners," Sakura's strong voice came from behind the group of them. Startled, they turned, and Issei took the opportunity to slip out from under the leader, ending up standing near Sakura. "Why don't the lot of you just grow up and piss off?" she continued, planting her hands on her hips and glaring at them.

Seeing the looks on the men's faces - and the determination on hers - Issei caught her arm and tugged at it. "Sakura, leave it," he urged her quietly. "It's not worth getting into a fight over. Please?" he added when she turned to look at him.

"Hmph." She gave the college boys one last glare for good measure. "Jerks. C'mon, Issei, let's go dance some more."

Shifting so his hand slid down her arm to her hand, she caught his fingers and tugged him towards the dance floor. He went willingly, grateful just to be out of the situation.

"Does that happen often?" she asked when they were far enough away for conversation. "You looked more resigned than anything."

"Often enough," he admitted ruefully. "People like that are the reason I learned martial arts. I'm too pretty for my own good, and always have been."

"Well, I think they're just morons," she announced, making him chuckle. The music had slowed down a bit, and as they stepped onto the dance floor, Issei saw that most of the dancers had paired off. It was still a fast enough beat that there were some solo dancers, but not many. "Dance with me?" she half asked, half suggested. "It'll get the creeps off your back, at least for tonight."

He hesitated; dancing with her was flirting with a line that would be dangerous to cross. He didn't want to encourage her crush on him, or lead her on by accident. But she'd offered, and the music wasn't so slow it was truly a slow dance.

He nodded, and they moved a little closer, arms wrapping around each other as they danced. It felt awkward, being this close to her, even though they'd been closer many times before when hugging. This was different, though, or at least it had a different connotation.

Once they got the hang of it, though, Issei found that it wasn't so bad. It was nice to dance with someone so close to him; oddly, this was something that had never made it into his fantasies about Jinpachi. He supposed that was because it was too public, something that would never happen between them even if his wildest dreams _did_ come true and Jinpachi fell for him.

He could feel Sakura's contentment through his bond to her, and although it was laced with an edgy sort of frustration, he was glad he could do this much to make her happy. He could tell she was trying hard not to let his nearness affect her, and he appreciated the effort she was putting into it. He knew better than most how difficult it could be to ignore an unrequited crush.

"You okay?" he asked her, when they'd been dancing for a few minutes. She made a soft sound of agreement, and he hesitantly pulled her a little closer, enough so that she could rest her cheek on his shoulder. There was still enough distance between them to keep them from otherwise touching, but it felt nice to have her leaning against him like that.

He knew he was pushing the line, though. He could feel her longing building with each phrase of the music, a stifled feeling that struck a chord with his own long-buried feelings for Jinpachi. With his shields blurred by the alcohol he'd imbibed, it was a little difficult to tell where her feelings ended and his own began.

She shifted, nuzzling a bit into his neck, and he drew in a sharp breath as he felt his body react. It wasn't a drastic reaction, not the sort of flooding emotion he'd felt sometimes when he let himself get too close to Jinpachi, but it was a reaction nonetheless. _Why..._ he thought to himself, bewildered, but then she shifted again and he understood.

He was reacting to _her_ emotions, not his own. Being this close to him was triggering her desire for him, and because he was in such close contact, his empathy was pulling the sensation into him, making it feel almost like his own emotion. His body didn't know the difference, so it reacted; the weaker strength of the reaction was due to the slight detachment from the emotion because it wasn't his own.

 _This was a bad idea._ He sighed, and started trying to think of a graceful way to end the situation. A stray thought passed through his mind, however, making him pause. _I wonder if her emotions would start to influence mine, if we stayed like this long enough..._

With a sense of wonder, he realized he might just have found the answer to both their problems. The only thing missing from his relationship with Sakura was a sense of physical desire. _She_ had that for him, in plenty. And through his empathy, he was able to share that feeling, the physical need that otherwise escaped him in her presence.

What if he just let himself react to her emotions? If he let her influence him instead of fighting against his empathic connection to her; could he make a relationship between them work? Given enough time and repeated exposure, could her emotions cause his to shift focus? It was possible, even probable.

"Issei? What is it?" He glanced down to find her looking up at him in bewilderment, and realized he'd come to a standstill in his shock at the epiphany.

"Nothing," he told her, not wanting to get her hopes up until he'd thought the idea through completely. He'd tell her what he was doing before he tried it, of course; it wouldn't be fair to her otherwise, and he cared for her too much to hide something like that from her. It would be up to her if she wanted to try the experiment.

In the meantime, he just tugged her close again and resumed dancing, this time wilfully opening himself to her feelings. She was confused, but still happy for the chance to be close to him, and as her desire for him flooded his system, he found himself reacting again.

 _This might actually work,_ he thought, elated. _If I can't have Jinpachi, I can't think of anyone I'd rather be with than Sakura. There's no one else I trust as much as her, that's for certain. Oh, Sarjareem, maybe this won't turn out so badly after all._

Smiling softly to himself, he leaned his cheek against her hair and gave himself over to the music, and to her.


	7. Chapter 7

Enju was standing in the conservatory when Shusuran finally found her. The redhead had been looking for her best friend for more than an hour, since seeing Gyokuran talking animatedly to Mokuren. The empath was staring out the windows at the stars and the earth beyond, _(Where am I?)_ her robes clutched tight in her hands and drawn closely around her. _(Is this a dream?)_

"Enju," Shusuran said, her voice full of relief and worry. "There you are. I've been looking all over for you." _(One of the moon dreams?)_

For a moment, Enju didn't seem to hear her. Then the long-haired woman turned and smiled at her best friend, _(It doesn't feel right...)_ though not before Shusuran caught the glitter of tears in the empath's eyes. "Shusuran. I'm sorry, were we supposed to do something together tonight? I forgot."

Shusuran just looked at her friend steadily, and Enju fidgeted visibly under her friend's frank stare. _(It's too fuzzy, as if it was a memory more distant than just second-hand...)_ "No," the redhead finally answered, gently. "You were supposed to have dinner with Gyokuran tonight. Did he back out on you again?"

Enju's smile turned brittle, but she shook her head and her voice was light when she spoke. "He had to do something with Mokuren; study some graphs, or something. I'm not sure. He promised to make it up to me in a couple of days."

"And he'll back out of that one too, most likely," Shusuran muttered, getting angry. _(It doesn't even feel like a memory...)_ "He's doing this more and more often, Enju. You shouldn't put up with it!"

The empath stepped forward and laid a gentle hand on her friend's arm. "Shusuran, it's all right. I knew going into this that he didn't love me. I took my chances, and I can live with the consequences." Her beautiful smile was still sad, as if it were only a thin shield against her tears, and Shusuran impulsively reached out and hugged her.

"You deserve better, Enju!" she exclaimed, as Enju sighed and relaxed against her, arms stealing out to hug her back. "You deserve someone who loves you for yourself, not just as a substitute for a woman he can't have!" _(If only it were that easy...)_

"Who do you suggest, Shusuran?" Enju asked, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Hiragi? Shukaido? Shion, perhaps?" _(Oh, dearest Sarjareem, no... I don't even want to think about it...)_ "I know you're only worried about me, Shusuran, but Gyokuran is the one I love, not them. Besides," she sighed softly, "It's not as if any of the others pay me any more attention than Gyokuran does. If you hadn't noticed, there's something of a limited population here." _(Enju never spoke like that... sarcasm was Shusuran's forte, not Enju's...)_

"And if there was someone who loved you? Really loved you?" Shusuran asked, her voice strained slightly with the struggle of keeping her emotions buried too deeply for Enju to sense them. "What then?"

"Does it matter?" Enju replied, biting her lip. "Nobody does. I've learned not to dream about things I can't have, Shusuran... it only brings more pain in the end." _(We both need to learn that lesson in this life...)_ "It's hard enough for me to be with someone who desires me but doesn't really love me. I can feel it. At least when Gyokuran thinks of Mokuren when he's with me..." Enju's voice caught on a sob, "at least then I can pretend that love is meant for me."

"He doesn't." Shusuran's voice was edged with ice. _(Did he really? How could she stand it? Bad enough to know the man you loved desired another... how much worse would it be to feel it as well?)_ "Tell me he doesn't."

Enju said nothing, only pulling away and moving back to stand in front of the window again, once more staring out at the stars. Shusuran cursed under her breath, seeing the glitter of the empath's tears threatening to spill over. She took a step forward, trying to think of how to comfort her friend.

"Shusuran... please, just go," Enju said softly, halting the redhead in her tracks. "I know you mean well, but right now it'd probably be easier on both of us if you just leave me be for the moment." The tears she still hadn't released were trembling in her voice, so close to the surface that any little scratch would burst the dam.

Making a decision, Shusuran deliberately stepped forward and made that scratch by wrapping her arms around Enju from behind. _(Shusuran never did know when to leave well enough alone...)_ The empath stiffened in her arms, almost struggling against the hold, but Shusuran held on tight. Finally Enju's body relaxed, shaking with the sobs she still refused to give voice to.

"You're wrong," Shusuran told her, turning her captive so they were face to face. Enju looked up at her, pale hair flowing gently in the breeze from the air filters, tears making her eyes shine like opalescent gems. "You're wrong. There is someone who loves you, more than life itself."

And before she could change her mind or let fear take control, Shusuran ducked her head and kissed Enju, full on the lips. At the same moment she released the iron barriers she'd learned to build around her own heart, letting the empath sense her best friend's true feelings for the first time ever.

Enju gasped at the sensation, and Shusuran promptly took advantage of the involuntary gesture, sweeping her tongue into Enju's mouth. She was aggressive, but also gentle, knowing that this might very well be her only chance to experience this. At any moment, Enju would come to her senses and push her away, and their friendship would probably be ruined forever.

She'd promised herself that she would never tell the beautiful woman how much she loved her, _(What? Shusuran was in love with Enju?)_ knowing that, trapped as they were amongst such a tiny population, the strain between them upon her rejection would put an unbearable tension on the already touchy dynamics in the group. _(Not that those kinds of considerations ever stopped any of the males from throwing themselves at Mokuren like animals in rut, thoughtless of the consequences...)_

The kiss lasted only a moment, for Shusuran dared not make it longer than that. But that moment was pure heaven, and so the seconds it lasted felt both like an eternity, and a fleeting blink of time. It could only have been made better if Enju had been participating, instead of standing there rigid in shock, but there were some dreams that just weren't meant to be. Truly, she had no call to be lecturing Enju about obsessing over people she could never have.

She pulled back, an apology already on the tip of her tongue. More than anything she wanted not to lose Enju's friendship, her trust... if she could only, somehow, convince the empath that it had been nothing but a momentary aberration...

To her shock, before she'd pulled away more than an inch, Enju's lips were pressed against hers again, bold and insistent. The smaller woman's body was tight against hers, their breasts and legs rubbing through the layers of fabric in their robes.

This had to be a dream. _(This_ is _a dream. But is it a memory? Or only a dream? Why would I dream about something like this?)_ Only in her dreams would Enju respond like this, as if she were willing and eager for the caress.

"Shusuran," Enju breathed when they finally parted enough for speech. "Why did you hide this from me? It must have been so hard for you..."

Shusuran was trembling, and with their bodies so close she knew the empath could feel it physically as well as psychically. "I was afraid," she admitted, her voice harsh with fear and lust. "Afraid of losing you forever. I thought I would be happy with your friendship." _(Oh, Sarjareem, we really do just keep making the same mistakes over and over, don't we? Why can't we learn?)_ "But I can't stand to see him making you so unhappy. It breaks my heart to see you cry."

"You love me," Enju said, a sense of wonder in her voice, as if she was amazed that anyone could feel such an emotion towards her. Shusuran could only nod, the lump in her throat too large to speak around, knowing how lonely and loveless Enju's life must have been for such a thing to seem amazing to her. And Gyokuran hadn't helped the problem, damn him.

"I do," she finally managed to say. Her eyes were locked on Enju's, and for the life of her she couldn't look away. She felt as if she was being pulled into their bright depths, drowning in Enju's soul.

"Let me feel it again?" Enju whispered, leaning a little closer. Her expression was entreating, yearning, a child reaching out for a treat she'd never thought to possess. "Please? It felt so good... Shusuran, love me, please?" _(Wait... no, this can't be right...)_

"Enju..." It came out as a croak, and Shusuran had to swallow and try again. "Enju, are you sure? Once done, we can't undo this. We can still walk away now and pretend it never happened." Actually, she doubted that last part, but they would at least be able to try. "Do you even know what you're asking for?"

The empath smiled and leaned forward, kissing Shusuran almost shyly, her tongue darting out to taste the other woman's lips before pulling back again quickly. Her hand was anything but shy, however; slender fingers brushed over Shusuran's nipple and returned to play, making the redhead moan into her friend's mouth. _(What is she doing? What are_ they _doing? This never happened! Did it?)_

"Touch me, Shusuran," Enju invited, her voice a low husky purr entirely uncharacteristic for her. Was this what she sounded like for Gyokuran in bed? Or was this a side of the empath that only Shusuran had provoked? The thought made Shusuran weak in the knees.

Valiantly, she tried one last time to assert common sense. "You'd be cheating on Gyokuran, Enju... for all that he chases after Mokuren, he's never actually done anything with her."

"He would in a heartbeat, if not for Shion," Enju replied, capturing Shusuran's nipple between her fingertips and pinching gently, making the taller woman gasp. "How could I go back to him, after feeling this? I thought I was happy, feeling his love for Mokuren and pretending it was meant for me. But feeling love that _is_ meant for me... I don't think I could stand to go back."

That was all Shusuran needed to hear for her passion to overcome her common sense. Drawing away abruptly, she captured Enju's torturous hand, and tugged her towards the door. "Not here," she ordered. "My room. Come on!"

Breathless and giggling, they ran through the halls, ducking around corners to hide if any of the others approached. Shusuran felt light as a feather, as if a weight that had been pressing her down all her life had been lifted. If she'd been any lighter, she thought she'd be able to fly.

The moment the door cycled shut behind them Enju was in Shusuran's arms again, the taller woman pressing her back against the wall as she nipped and licked her way down the empath's throat. _(Why am I dreaming this? I have to wake up...)_ Enju moaned, loudly enough that Shusuran was grateful for the excellent soundproofing in the base's walls.

Then Enju arched her back, offering herself to Shusuran, one leg sliding between the taller woman's, and Shusuran forgot all about the presence of the others on the base. In fact, she forgot about anything at all except Enju, and the amazing, impossible feeling of the empath against her.

"Enju, I love you," she murmured into her friend's ear, and Enju shivered.

"I love you too, Shusuran," she replied. "I can feel your desire so strong it's drowning me. Hurry! I can't wait..."

Unspoken between them was the knowledge that Enju had never desired a woman before this moment, that she was reacting more to Shusuran's feelings than to any desire of her own. _(This is wrong, this is such a bad idea...)_ Shusuran knew that the wise thing to do would have been to step back, to leave until they'd both cooled down enough to talk about it rationally. But damn it, she'd been waiting so long, wanting so long, and now all her hopes and dreams were being handed to her on a silver platter... how could she resist? _(Don't do it, this is a mistake...)_

Ignoring her conscience, Shusuran moved to strip Enju of her robes, the empath's smaller hands fumbling awkwardly at Shusuran's clothes as well. Enju was clearly hesitant and uncertain, unused to undressing another female; Shusuran pulled away just long enough to unclasp the pins holding her robes together, and let them fall gracefully to the floor.

She stood nude before the woman she loved, who was staring back at her, clothes half off. _(She's so beautiful...)_ "Enju," she said, her voice throaty with desire. She beckoned, and Enju took a step away from the wall, letting her robes fall completely to the floor.

A moment later they were locked in another embrace, Shusuran guiding them to the bed, pushing Enju over onto her back on the soft mattress. "I'll make you feel so good, you'll never regret it," she promised, kneeling over Enju to trail her mouth over the empath's breasts. Enju's long, pale hair was spread out beneath her like a silken backdrop, framing the glowing perfection of her equally pale skin.

Shusuran licked delicately at one engorged nipple, making Enju shudder and cry out beneath her. Enju's breasts were small, just the perfect size to be held in one hand, and Shusuran kneaded at them with a gentle touch.

She was so focused on doing all the things to Enju she'd only had a chance to dream about before, that she actually jumped slightly when the hesitant fingers brushed her nipple again. Looking up, she saw Enju looking back at her wide-eyed, as the pale hand explored Shusuran's darker skin tentatively. _(Oh, Sarjareem, it feels so good, even if it is only a dream...)_

Making a soft noise of encouragement in the back of her throat, Shusuran turned her attention to Enju's neglected nipple. Slowly she slipped one of her legs between the empath's, rocking upwards so that her thigh put pressure on the other woman's clit. Enju cried out and writhed beneath her, causing her to rub against Shusuran's thigh again.

The sound and feel of her made Shusuran's breath catch, and she felt dampness gathering between the lips of her vagina. She'd already been turned on, but this was bringing her to new heights of arousal. Dizzily, she wondered what the final explosion would be like, if just the beginning of the foreplay was this intense.

Enju shifted again, lifting one of her legs so that her thigh brushed Shusuran in turn. She rocked her hips, granting them both the friction they craved, and Shusuran lunged up to capture her lover's lips in a fierce kiss. _(Can anything really feel that good? Is it really like that between two people who love each other?)_

She could feel Enju's wetness on her skin now, warm trickles of it sliding down over the curve of her thigh, onto the sheets. The musky smell of sex was heavy in the air, and the room rang with the sound of their moans and cries. Feeling she would surely burst if she let this continue much longer, Shusuran reluctantly drew away, making Enju whimper and reach for her.

"Hush, love, I'm not leaving," she promised, resettling herself squarely between Enju's thighs. For a moment the empath resisted, pressing her thighs against Shusuran's waist, trying to close them. _(Don't, don't do it, this is a mistake, you'll only regret it...)_ Shusuran just waited patiently, nibbling at the edge of Enju's jaw, letting her feelings of love and desire flow from her heart much as her fluids were flowing from her body.

Finally Enju relaxed, her legs falling to the sides and allowing Shusuran to settle more firmly atop her. The redheaded woman slowly began her path down her lover's body, using hands and teeth and tongue to lavish attention on every available inch of Enju's body.

The empath squirmed and moaned beneath her, biting down on the side of her hand to stifle her loudest cries. Shusuran wondered briefly about that - was it a natural tendency? Or something she'd learned? Either way she wished the woman would let herself express her pleasure, but at the moment Shusuran wasn't about to push her luck by demanding specifics.

When she reached Enju's crotch she bypassed the mass of curly hair there, moving on to alternately bite and suck at the soft flesh of Enju's inner thigh. The muscles quivered beneath her mouth with a mixture of tension and arousal, and it made Shusuran feel powerful every time Enju's leg jerked slightly in reaction to Shusuran's teasing.

When she reached the foot she was kneeling on the floor beside the bed, Enju's ankle firmly clasped in her hands. She licked at the delicate toes, making the other woman laugh breathlessly. "Shusuran, please," Enju begged sweetly, her voice hoarse with desire.

"Please what, love?" Shusuran asked wickedly, rising up from her crouch so that she was leaning over Enju again, her arms braced on either side of the empath's waist, her breasts brushing Enju's core with every breath she took. _(Who knew Shusuran was such a tease?)_

"Please!" Enju said again, tossing her head. "Please, I need you, I need this..."

"All you ever had to do was ask," Shusuran told her softly, drawing back again. Pushing Enju's thighs a little further apart with her hands, she leaned in and nuzzled through the fragrant curls between them, inhaling the intoxicating scent that was Enju's arousal.

The empath was wet enough that the tops of her inside thighs were slick, and Shusuran carefully licked it off the delicate skin, enjoying the taste of it. Enju's fists clenched in the sheets as she gave up trying to muffle herself. Her cries grew louder and more impatient with each swipe of Shusuran's tongue, until finally Shusuran took pity on her.

Parting the curls with her fingers, she drew her tongue along the revealed slit, revelling in the wetness and the way Enju's hips jumped beneath her hands in an effort to bring her close. Enju was gasping now, and Shusuran knew her lover was already close to the edge. _(I shouldn't be so aroused by this, it's only a dream, but oh, my body doesn't care...)_ Small wonder; after years of lusting after her best friend while confined to celibacy, Shusuran herself was wound tighter than a spring, and ready to burst. Enju, feeding off both her own body's responses and Shusuran's emotions, must be twice as badly off.

The tip of her tongue nudged the swollen knob of flesh at the top of Enju's slit, and the empath screamed in pleasure and release. Shusuran didn't pull away, continuing to tease gently at the nub as Enju's body convulsed, bringing a second orgasm hard on the heels of the first.

Only when Enju's whimpers became pained did she withdraw, knowing the empath's body had gotten too sensitive to bear any more direct stimulation. She snagged a corner of the sheet and wiped her face with it, smiling as she crawled up to lie beside her panting lover.

"Oh, Shusuran..." Enju gathered the energy from somewhere to roll over and throw herself in Shusuran's willing arms. The smaller woman was sobbing softly with the overwhelming feelings of it all, and Shusuran stroked her back slowly, ignoring her own throbbing body in favour of comforting her lover.

"Are you all right, love?" Shusuran couldn't entirely keep her frustrated desire from showing in her voice, but she thought she did a fair job of modulating it.

At least, she thought she had until Enju chuckled softly and replied, "I will be once I've done the same for you and you stop vibrating at me."

Shusuran flushed, grateful for the darkness in her room, though she knew Enju would sense her embarrassment. "I suppose it's pointless trying to hide anything from you when we're in such close contact?" she asked wryly.

"Rather," Enju agreed, shifting so that one of her hands was free to trail down over Shusuran's side and hip. The redhead shivered, more than ready to just skip over the previews and go right on to the main event. Getting Enju off had been perhaps the most arousing experience of her entire life; she didn't need any more foreplay than that.

Sensing her desperate need, Enju didn't hesitate as her hand slid over the curve of Shusuran's hip, fingers tangling in the dark red curls she found. Shusuran groaned and spread her legs, holding Enju's upper body to her tightly with one hand while she clutched at the blanket with the other. "Oh, Sarjareem, Enju... please don't tease me, I've waited too long, I can't stand it..."

"I won't tease," Enju promised, inserting one finger into the folds of Shusuran's flesh. The tip rubbed over Shusuran's clit, making her gasp and cry out in mindless need. _(Please, Sarjareem, free me from this dream! I can't take this...)_ Having found something that worked, Enju apparently decided to stick with it, running her finger over that small bump of flesh again and again, occasionally varying the strokes by circling around it for a few moments instead.

Shusuran was crying out in a rhythm to match Enju's fingers, the cries becoming strangled each time Enju changed her pace. Each shift in rhythm caused her to fall away from the peak as her body switched gears, then just as she was climbing again Enju would change back to her first pattern. It was driving Shusuran into mindless frustration at an amazingly rapid pace.

"I thought... you said... you wouldn't... tease!" she panted, jerking her hips in an attempt to maintain some sort of constant friction.

"Oh, is this teasing?" Enju asked, her voice holding nothing but innocent surprise. Her expression matched her voice, save for the wicked glint in her eyes. _(That's not Enju, she wouldn't behave like that, this_ must _be a dream, and only a dream...)_ "I'm sorry, I'm just trying different things to see what works best."

Shusuran growled and grabbed for her lover's wrist, intending to force the woman to bring her over the edge if necessary. Enju laughed and snatched her hand out of reach, leaving Shusuran panting, desolate, on the verge of tears.

Then it was her turn to scream as Enju brought her hand back and attacked Shusuran's clit with three fingers, rubbing with a hard, steady pressure that sent her skyrocketing towards the pinnacle. With a second, choked scream, Shusuran went tumbling over the edge into the oblivion of ecstasy, darkness creeping over her vision as she thought she might pass out from the sheer intensity.

"I love you," Enju's whisper followed her into the darkness, and she clung to it as reassurance that this really had happened, and wasn't only a dream. _(But it was a dream! This never happened, it couldn't have... could it?)_


	8. Chapter 8

Issei woke abruptly, drenched in sweat and gasping for air. The sheets were sticky and his body was throbbing with the aftermath of the dream, but not all his shaking was from residual pleasure.

 _What the hell was that?_ he wondered, struggling to get his heart rate and breathing back under control. That had been both like, and unlike, the moon dreams he'd had previously.

For one thing, every other time he'd dreamed of his past life, he'd simply _been_ Enju. There had been no sense of him as 'Issei'; yet in this dream, he'd felt more like an observer, watching over their shoulders, than a part of the dream.

For another thing, the dream had been entirely from Shusuran's perspective. He hadn't gotten any sense of what Enju was feeling or thinking, but Shusuran's thoughts had been clear, even though he hadn't felt connected to her in any other way.

Could it have been Sakura's dream, that he'd shared? Granted, he'd shared moon dreams with Jinpachi before, but he'd always been Enju in them. He'd never shared a dream with Jinpachi that didn't involve both Enju and Gyokuran. If he'd shared Sakura's memory of the past, why hadn't he taken Enju's part? It wasn't possible for Shusuran to have a memory of the two of them that Enju didn't share.

So had it only been a dream? If so, the question still remained; had it been his dream, or Sakura's?

There was only one way to find out, loathe as he was to face her right now. Slowly he dragged himself from under the clinging blankets, then gathered them up and tossed them in a bundle in the corner. He'd have to get new linens from the closet. He only had the one pair of pyjamas still, so he was forced to change into his jeans and a t-shirt.

Barefoot, his hair rumpled from tossing and turning, Issei padded out of his room and into the hall, where he paused to listen. He could hear Sakura's father snoring in her parents' room down the hall, occasionally punctuated by the lighter snores of her mother. Sakura herself was a quiet sleeper, albeit a restless one, so it was harder to tell if she was still asleep.

Taking a deep breath, he dropped his shields and reached outwards along the connection he had to her. Immediately he was struck by a staggering sense of mingled shame and desire, a mix of emotions that matched his own fairly well.

 _Well, whoever's dream it was to start with, obviously we both got to experience it,_ he concluded, slapping his shields back up hastily. When he was able to focus on the world around him again, he found himself leaning back against the wall, his knees watery and threatening to give way. _And I know whose fault that is. Damn my empathy, anyway!_

Once his feet were steady under him again, he relaxed his shields just enough to let him locate Sakura by the roil of emotions emanating from her. She was in her room... no, she was just _beyond_ her room. How was that possible?

Then Issei remembered the porch that wrapped around the side of the house. It wasn't really visible from the front, and he'd only been in the back yard a handful of times in the few weeks he'd been living there, so he kept forgetting about it. Now that he thought about it, her room had large french windows that could probably do double duty as doors onto the porch.

Instead of knocking on her door, he went around to the back door, shivering as he stepped outside. There was frost rimming the grass, limning each blade in white and creating a surreal effect in the moonlight. There were no clouds in the sky, and despite the interference of light from Tokyo, the stars were bright and plentiful.

 _At least, plentiful compared to what they normally look like from here,_ he thought with a sad smile as he moved towards the corner of the house. _Compared to what you could see from the moon base, this is pathetic._

He turned the corner and froze, eyes wide. For a wild moment he thought Enju was standing in front of him, hands on the railing as she looked up at the full moon and the stars beyond. Then reality reasserted itself, and he realized it was Sakura, her long hair bleached to colourlessness by the moonlight, her face partly hidden by the way she was angled away from him.

Still, it was an eerie reproduction of the dream they'd just shared. Sakura was standing in a pose almost identical to the one in which Shusuran had found Enju. Issei felt his heart turn over as he saw the glitter of tear tracks shining on her face. She'd been crying, or was still crying softly, it was hard to tell.

He wasn't sure if she'd seen him yet, but he didn't think so. He stood there for a long moment, his breath clouding before him, feet aching from the cold, as he tried to decide what to do. How did you ask your best friend if she'd been dreaming about your past incarnations sleeping together? It had been awkward enough discussing it with Jinpachi after they'd first dreamed of Enju and Gyokuran together, and at least they'd already both been aware that they were sharing the dreams.

"Shusuran," he said softly, to get her attention. Then he cursed himself; that wasn't the name he'd meant to use. There was a part of him still caught up in the dream, still reacting as Enju and not Issei, and that was going to complicate this discussion considerably.

She spun, on hand on her heart, her eyes wide. Quickly she ran a hand over her face to brush the tears away, and gave him an unconvincing smile. "Issei! You startled me! What are you doing up so late? And why are you out here in your bare feet, it's freezing!"

"You're not any better dressed than I am," he said softly, nodding at her thin silk pyjamas and the equally thin robe she'd tossed on over it. She at least was wearing slippers, however. Still, she didn't look any warmer than he felt.

"Oh, I... had a dream that woke me up, and I needed some air," she said, a dark blush staining her cheeks as she turned hastily away from him again. "I didn't wake you, did I? Don't worry about me, I'm..."

"Sakura." Just the one word, but it stopped her half-hysterical babbling. That sort of run-on speech was uncharacteristic for her, and showed just how rattled she'd been by the dream. He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair, grimacing at the feel of frozen sweat. How was he going to handle this?

"You dreamed it too, didn't you?" she asked, her voice flat and a little hopeless, beating him to the punch. He blinked at her; he hadn't expected her to ask that. She turned enough to give him a wary smile. "I was afraid you might have. You've mentioned that you'd shared dreams with Jinpachi before, and with you being right in the other room..." she shrugged. "I'm sorry. That must have been very uncomfortable for you."

"So it was your dream, then?" he asked, moving forward to stand at the railing beside her. He was careful to give her the space she seemed to need, staying far enough away not to brush against her, and looking out at the stars instead of at her. "I wasn't sure if it was mine and I'd forced it on you, or if I was just picking up on your dream."

"No, it was mine," she admitted softly. "I've... had dreams like that before."

There was silence between them for a moment as he tried to figure out what to say to that. Finally he asked, "Was it a memory? Or only a dream? I couldn't tell..."

"It was just a dream," she assured him quickly, still not looking at him. He could sense her embarrassment, and the frustrated desire she always radiated around him, though it was stronger than usual at the moment. Unsurprising, considering the nature of the dream they'd just shared.

"I've... I've had them before," she added, her embarrassment increasing. He projected back a quiet sense of support, wordlessly reassuring her that he wasn't upset with her, and her voice gained a little strength. "They always involve Shusuran convincing Enju to go with her, and it's always the 'first time', even though it's different circumstances. And Enju is often a little out of character. I think it's just a result of Shusuran's wishful thinking."

That surprised him; if anything he'd have thought it was an odd projection of her desire for him onto their past personae. "Shusuran was in love with Enju? Really?" he blurted out, eyes wide.

She turned and gave him a very wry look. "For an empath, you're remarkably unobservant sometimes, Issei. It's a trait you share with Enju."

Now it was his turn to blush and look away. "I knew about... your feelings for me," he said, daring to break their mutual silence on the subject for the first time. "I don't think Enju ever suspected Shusuran's feelings, though. She hid them well."

"Something I dearly wish I could learn to do," Sakura sighed, leaning against the rail again. "I'm sorry, Issei. I don't mean to put you through this. I know it must be hard on you, but I can't seem to help myself."

"Love never happens where it's convenient," Issei replied softly. "I know that better than anyone."

They were both quiet again, each thinking about that in their own way. Issei's thoughts turned to the 'revelation' he'd had in the club a few weeks prior, about his reaction to Sakura's desire for him. When he'd woken alone in his room the next morning, sober, he'd been heartily grateful he hadn't said anything to her at the time. While he hadn't exactly been drunk, his thought processes that night had been somewhat lacking in his usual inhibitions.

He'd brushed the whole thing off as a bad idea, not wanting to hurt Sakura by pretending or fooling her in some way. He'd often caught himself giving her thoughtful glances across the classroom or dinner table, however, wondering to himself if it really would have worked.

In the dream, Enju had basically done exactly what Issei had been contemplating; she'd used Shusuran's desire for her to stimulate her own. Sakura's dream or not, Issei was fairly certain that bit had been his own contribution. It wasn't the sort of possibility that generally occurred to a non-empath.

Yet, in the dream, Shusuran had been aware of what Enju was doing, and hadn't been put off or hurt by the thought. Was that a reflection of Sakura's likely reaction? Was it possible to try the experiment after all, without hurting his friend?

Was he denying them both a chance at happiness out of his own fear of losing a good friend?

"Issei? What are you thinking?" Sakura's voice was hesitant, as if she wasn't certain she wanted to know the answer. "You have the oddest look on your face."

He turned and, without warning, pulled her into his arms. She resisted the movement, looking a little panicked. "Issei, please don't, not right now," she protested, her eyes wide and shimmering with barely suppressed tears. "I can't..."

"What if I said I thought I might be able to make myself return your feelings?" Issei interrupted her, looking down into her bright eyes. The moonlight struck a halo off her hair, a sort of reflective glow that heightened the smoothness of her skin and the beauty of her features.

"That's not funny," she said flatly, her brows drawing together. "Not at all. You can't force yourself to love with someone, you should know that better than I do."

"I don't have to force myself to love you," he replied, his eyes not wavering from hers. "I already do, you know that. What's missing is the sexual element of the relationship. Even though I can freely admit that you're beautiful, I've never desired you."

She blushed at the compliment, but didn't look any happier at his words. "And you can't force that any more than you can force love!" she retorted, placing her hands flat on his shoulders and shoving. He locked his arms around her, refusing to release her. "Issei, let me go! Please?"

In answer he bent his head and captured her lips, deliberately dropping his shields at the same moment. He was flooded with a sense of panic and denial as she struggled against him, entwined with a rising sense of helpless desire. In moments she had stopped fighting and was responding to the kiss, her hands clutching at his shirt instead of trying to push him away as her mouth opened beneath his.

And as he absorbed her desire his own body reacted, and he deepened the kiss. It felt a little odd, like the emotion didn't quite fit him properly, but his body responded nonetheless. And as her ardour increased, so too did his, in a perfect mirror of her feelings.

They were both panting when they broke apart, and he opened his eyes to see that Sakura's were still closed, various emotions flitting across her expressive features as she tried to calm herself.

Finally she opened her eyes and looked back at him. "What did you do?" she asked, worrying at her bottom lip with her teeth. Still caught by her feelings, Issei had to suppress the urge to sooth the tiny hurt with his own tongue.

Instead he swallowed, and smiled at her. "The same thing Enju did in the dream," he told her, his voice just a little husky. She shivered in his arms, and he knew it wasn't from cold. "I used your feelings to encourage mine. I first realized I could do it when we were dancing at the club," he added in explanation. "I never said anything because I didn't want to hurt you or make you think I was using you as a substitute."

"It... it won't work, Issei," she said, but he could feel her desperate hope, deep inside her heart. She _wanted_ it to work, even more than he did. She wanted to believe she could have what she'd always wanted. And, if these feelings of her extended into their past lives and weren't just a single-lifetime crush, as he'd first assumed, then she'd been waiting a very long time for him to want her back, just as he'd waited for Jinpachi.

"It wouldn't be real," she continued, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. "I don't want you to fake emotion just to make me happy, I want you to be happy, too!"

He raised his hands from her waist to her cheeks, and used his thumbs to gently brush the tears away. She closed her eyes and drew in a shuddering sigh at the light touch, swaying slightly towards him.

"But I would be happy," he told her. "If I can't have Jinpachi - which has been proven beyond a doubt at this point - I can't think of anyone I'd rather be with than you. I wouldn't be 'faking' the emotions, anymore than you are. Besides," he tilted her face up and kissed her gently again. "I think I might learn to desire you for myself, given enough time. My problem has always been that I've never been able to see past Jinpachi to want anyone else; anymore than Enju could see past Gyokuran. This might be exactly what I need to do to break that destructive loop."

She was considering it, he could tell, and he held his breath while she thought. His eyes were pinned hopefully on her face, watching her expression for a sign that she'd decided to try it.

"I don't want to break my heart over you, but I'm going to do that anyway," she finally said slowly, her eyes lowered so he couldn't read them. It didn't stop him from sensing her emotions, however; resignation, frustration, and a growing hope. "I know this is a bad idea. A really bad idea. I can't help feeling like we're both going to be hurt by this."

Her breath caught on a sob, and she looked up at him with glittering eyes. "But, damn it, I want this chance," she whispered, and leaned up to kiss him again, pouring all her frustrated passion into the embrace. It took him a moment to respond, but then he was returning the kiss with equal enthusiasm, pulling her closer still as they kissed.

Maybe she was right, and this was a bad idea. But damn it, wasn't it about time the two of them had some happiness in their lives? _Sarjareem, if you have any sense of fairness, let this work!_ he prayed desperately. _Please, let this work. I don't want to hurt her, and I think my heart might shatter almost as badly as hers if this goes wrong._

There was no answer from their deity, only the soft light of the moon falling upon them as they broke apart again. Somewhere up there was the crater that was all that remained of the base after they'd blown it up. He almost felt like he could feel Enju and Shusuran's spirits, looking down on them from the conservatory that no longer existed, hands locked together as they prayed for the happiness of the humans they had been reborn as.

"Let's go inside," Sakura said, sighing softly, laying her head on his shoulder. "And back to our own beds. I don't want to push things too far, too fast."

"I agree," he said, though he rested his chin on her hair rather than moving towards the door. "I think we're going to have to take things very slowly, to let me keep my equilibrium," he added thoughtfully. "It's probably for the best anyway."

She nodded, then pulled away from him and turned towards her room. "Issei... I love you," she said as she reached the window and turned back to him.

He smiled back at her, suddenly not feeling the cold at all. He was too warm from the emotions within him, his and hers both. "I love you too, Sakura," he replied. "Sleep well." She nodded and vanished inside her room, and he turned and headed back towards the door, feeling hopeful for the first time in a long time.


	9. Chapter 9

Issei lay sprawled across Sakura's bed on his stomach, facing the low footboard. His legs were bent at the knees, sock feet kicking idly to the beat of the music on her radio, as he attempted to absorb himself in his math textbook. They had a test in three days, and he needed to be ready for it. If he wanted to get a full scholarship, even to a mid-level school, he needed to have absolutely top grades as well as scoring in the highest percentage on the entrance exams. Both required extensive studying.

At the vanity Sakura was trying out several new cosmetics she'd bought yesterday after school. She was singing along to the radio, and although she had a good enough voice that he wasn't complaining, it was distracting. He kept finding himself watching her instead of reading the textbook. Well, it was his own fault for trying to study in here, anyway. Still, he made no move to get up off the bed.

"I don't know how you can spend such long periods of time studying," Sakura said, glancing at him in the mirror. He looked down at the book hastily, fighting a blush at being caught looking. "My brain would explode. And yes, I am aware that you've been watching me and not studying," she added impishly, making him groan and bury his face in his arms, "but I've seen you study for hours at a time before."

"You are planning to go to college, I know that," Issei remarked. "How do you plan to do it if you don't study?" Giving up on the text, he shut the book and sat up, crossing his legs and leaning towards her idly.

She shrugged, turning back to her mirror and applying another layer of powder. It made absolutely no difference that Issei could see, but she frowned and reached for a tissue, scrubbing it off. "I study, just not nearly as much as you do," she protested. "My grades are good enough to get me in, and my parents are paying my tuition and expenses. I don't need any more than that."

He shook his head and smiled, though the expression was slightly brittle. "Well, I'm not getting a free ride, remember? I have to study so I can get a scholarship."

She dropped the tissue and turned to catch his hands. "Gods, that was tactless of me, wasn't it? I'm sorry." She kissed him in apology. It still felt a little odd to both of them to be able to do this so openly, but they'd been officially 'dating' for almost two weeks now. They were still hiding it from her parents, lest they think twice about allowing Issei to live with her, but in private they weren't shy about showing affection.

It was almost always Sakura who initiated the touches, though, out of simple necessity. When he thought of it Issei would sometimes take her hand or hug her, but he rarely started anything more intimate than that. He needed to have something to react to before he started, and that meant Sakura had to be the aggressor most of the time.

She hadn't made any indication that the role bothered her; she certainly had the more naturally aggressive personality of the two of them. He was afraid his lack of initiative might come to worry her eventually, though. Every night, lying alone in his bed, he prayed to Sarjareem to let his feelings towards her change so that he didn't have to rely on her emotions any more.

When she pulled away, she smiled and laughed. "Oops. You've got lipstick on, now." He blushed and raised a hand to his lips, and she laughed again. Tilting her head, she pulled his hand away and studied him. "It looks pretty good on you, actually. It's too bad you _aren't_ a girl, you'd be an awfully pretty one."

"It certainly would have solved more problems than it caused," Issei agreed with a sigh. "I could have loved Jinpachi without being disowned for it, and you wouldn't have been stuck being in love with me."

"What on earth gives you that idea?" Sakura asked him, frowning. "Shusuran loved Enju, didn't she? What makes you think I'd feel any different if you were female in this life?"

"I... but... I thought you were straight?" Issei said in surprise. She smacked him on the knee.

"Mostly. I only express interest in guys, it's just easier that way. But I like women, too," she admitted. "So why were you watching me, anyway? I wasn't even thinking about you, so I know you weren't picking anything up."

He flushed again, embarrassed that he was so transparent. "What, I'm not allowed to look at you just because I want to?" She just looked back at him, and he rolled his eyes. "Actually, I was trying to follow what you were doing. It all looks so complicated to me, and half of it doesn't seem to _do_ anything."

"What, the makeup?" she asked in surprise, and he nodded. "You still haven't remembered any of what Enju knew about it?"

He shook his head. "No, not really. Bits and pieces, I guess, but not in such a way that I can put them together to make sense." He smiled. "I'm sure Enju was an artist with it. She was a very feminine woman."

"She was indeed," Sakura murmured, grinning at him. "If she'd been more of a tomboy like Shusuran, you probably wouldn't have had nearly as much trouble in this life as a male."

"I'll trade you," he promptly offered, which made her laugh.

"Not on your life," she replied, shaking her head. "I like being a girl, which is why I chose to come back as one. I could've taken your route and asked to be a boy so I could have a chance of getting you in this life," she pointed out. "Wouldn't that be a mess? All three of us in the triangle being male?"

"Triangle? You oversimplify the situation," Issei said dryly. "Shusuran loved Enju, who loved Gyokuran, who loved Mokuren, who loved Shion. Who loved her back, at least. Though we can't forget to throw Shukaido into the mix. Poor Hiragi... it must have been like watching a soap opera."

Sakura chuckled, and swung back towards the mirror. Looking at him in the reflection, she asked, "Well, do you want me to show you some things? Or is makeup too girly for your sensibilities, despite your own admitted fascination?"

"Depends on whether you try to put it _on_ me or not," he answered, sliding forward so his feet were on the floor and he was perched on the side of the bed closest to the vanity.

"I can't show you properly if I don't," she informed him, picking up one of the tubes of flesh-coloured cream. "You interested, or not? If not, I suggest you flee the room before I pin you down and experiment on you anyway," she added dryly.

He laughed. "All right, all right. It's not like anyone but you is going to see me." Inwardly he had to admit he was more than curious. The part of him that was still a feminine soul trapped in a male body sometimes yearned to be allowed to express itself more openly, but he almost never gave it free rein. He was too afraid of Enju taking over his life.

Sitting back and letting Sakura have her way with him - metaphorically speaking, at least for the moment - was in many ways a sort of guilty release for him. He wasn't giving in to his urges so much as letting her do what she wanted; a fine distinction, perhaps, but it let him relax his guard a little.

She fussed over him for a good thirty minutes, and while she was admittedly going slow so he could see and understand what she was doing, it still took far too long in his opinion. He said as much, and Sakura laughed.

"If you just want to slap some colour on your face to draw attention, then sure, you can do it in ten minutes," she said, carefully applying eyeliner to him. "I usually spend at least this long getting ready for school in the mornings, and I work much faster on myself than I have been on you. If I get really fancy, it can take as long as an hour."

After a few more minutes she stepped back and surveyed him, an odd look on her face. "What?" he demanded, blushing. "I suppose I look like a total idiot."

"Actually, I was just thinking that not only would most girls kill to have your eyelashes, they'd kill to have your complexion, too," she said, but he could tell that wasn't what she'd been thinking at all. He fidgeted nervously with the bedspread, swallowing hard. This had been a bad idea after all.

Finally she shook her head and stepped away, giving him a clear view of himself in the mirror for the first time since she'd started. Almost afraid to look, Issei glanced over, and his eyes widened.

She was right; he couldn't tell he was wearing anything, not really. But just as the eyeliner had been invisible, yet made his eyes look more dramatic, so the rest of the makeup enhanced his other features the same way. He stared, floored. He looked... almost...

"Y'know, with longer hair and the right clothes to hide your frame, you really could pass for a girl," Sakura said, coming up beside him and putting a hand on his shoulder. He could see her in the mirror as well, watching him with that odd expression still on her face. "And everything you're wearing is coloured for my skin tones, not yours. I'd almost pay to see what you'd look like with it done properly. You'd be gorgeous."

He tore his eyes away from his reflection, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. At that moment he was very glad that she had no traces of empathy; she couldn't possibly know how upset her words made him, or why. Standing abruptly, he picked up his textbook, avoiding her eyes. "I should wash it off before your parents come home," he said, latching onto the first excuse to leave that came to mind. "And then I really do need to study."

She gave him an odd look; her parents weren't due home for a few more hours, at least. She didn't push the issue, however; while she wasn't an empath, she was good at reading him, and must have sense how fragile he was feeling at the moment. She picked up a jar from her table, one of the few she hadn't used on him, and handed it to him. "Use this to wash it off, normal soap won't work as well. Just follow the directions on the jar," she told him.

He nodded his thanks and escaped the room, heading straight across the hall to his own room and shutting the door firmly behind him. It didn't have a lock, but he knew she wouldn't bother him until he came out on his own. Sakura could be pushy, but she generally knew when to leave well enough alone.

He dropped the book and jar onto his desk and collapsed onto his futon. Putting his back to the corner, he pulled his knees up and hugged them to him, curling up tight as if the defensive posture could protect him from the pain in his own heart.

From that position, if he'd looked up, he could have seen himself in the full-length mirror on the wall, but he kept his eyes locked firmly on his feet. He wasn't even sure exactly what had sent him bolting from the room like that; something about her words and the way he'd looked in that mirror had made him panic.

No, not panic, exactly. Sorting through the complicated knots of emotion in his own mind, Issei slowly unwound the puzzle. It wasn't panic, but pain and a sharp sense of... loss? Could that be right? What had he lost, though?

Perhaps it really was nothing more than the loss of the ability for his soul to express itself properly. Enju had been a very feminine woman, the kind who always wore skirts, had long hair and was never seen without makeup. There was a part of him that yearned for those sorts of 'pretty' things, and always had. As a child he'd gotten into trouble for letting his sister use him as a human doll. As a youth he'd been constantly teased and bullied for being a 'pretty boy', and the only reason the bullying had stopped when he was a teenager was because he'd learned to defend himself.

It had been a mistake to let Sakura fuss over him. Giving in to the urge to let himself be just the least bit feminine for a few minutes had done nothing to help his constant struggle to define himself as Issei and not Enju. Seeing himself in the mirror when she was done with him, the first thing that had struck him was the dichotomy; with the makeup on his face had looked even more feminine than usual, and it had jarred with his male haircut and body.

But the thing that had struck him as 'wrong' in the picture wasn't the feminine appearance of his face, it had been the rest of it. Then having Sakura comment about his ability to pass as a girl...

Once more he cursed Enju's idiocy in asking Sarjareem to allow her to reincarnate as a male. She'd caused far too many problems with that one simple request, and she hadn't solved any of the problems she'd had to start with.

If only he could go back and undo that mistake somehow. He sighed, and slowly uncurled from his tight defensive posture. There was no point in wishing for the impossible. He'd made the mistake, and now he had to live with it. He'd know better for his future lives. But that didn't make it hurt any less in this one.

Standing, he made his way to the mirror, and stared into it. He'd managed to keep himself from crying, so the makeup Sakura had put on him was still in place. He tried to imagine himself with longer hair, and it was actually quite easy to picture. He _would_ look much more like a girl than a boy if he grew his hair out.

He stared at his reflection, and Enju stared back from his eyes. Cursing, he turned away again. He was only tormenting himself, wishing for the stars when he couldn't even have the moon.


	10. Chapter 10

Somehow, despite the fact that she was in no way a morning person, Issei always managed to chivvy Sakura out of bed early enough that they weren't late for school. This, her parents had informed him with amusement at one point, was a marked improvement over her usual habits. Issei had learned that if he didn't want Sakura to sulk at him for half the morning for waking her up early, however, he'd better have coffee in hand when he knocked on her door.

Today they actually managed to make it to school a few minutes early, much to Sakura's consternation. "I don't see what the big deal is," she complained as they walked through the front doors hand in hand. She yawned, covering it up with her free hand. "So we're here ten minutes before classes start. That just means we have to go sit up there and hang around at our desks, waiting. I'd rather have the ten minutes of extra sleep."

"As if ten minutes would make any difference one way or another," Issei teased her. "I think you just enjoy being the centre of attention when you come in late."

"Oh yes, I adore the detentions it earns me, too," she agreed dryly. "Go put your shoes away, twit. I need to go drop off that extra credit project at the science lab; I'll meet you in class."

"See, you wouldn't have had time to do that if I hadn't gotten you up," he pointed out, laughing. He squeezed her hand once before releasing it, then handed her book bag to her, since he'd been carrying both of them. She smiled and headed off towards her own locker.

Issei headed for his spot in the rows of small shoe lockers in the front hall; his wasn't with the rest of his class, because he'd transferred in late in the year. Setting his bag down at his feet, he opened the locker, and blinked in surprise at the white envelope sitting inside, on top of his shoes.

Picking it up, he examined it. It was the sort of thing you could get at any stationary store, meant for a card of some type. The only thing on it was his name, written in blocky kana across the front.

Frowning to himself, he glanced around quickly, but there was nobody watching. He changed his shoes quickly, and headed up to their homeroom, the letter tucked in a pocket of his bag so nobody would ask him about it.

Once he reached his desk he hung his bag from the hooks on the front of the desk, and slid into the chair. Sliding the envelope out of the pile of textbooks he extracted from his bag, he brought it down beneath the level of his desk and quickly opened it.

As he'd expected, it was a love confession note. It wasn't the first one he'd received; any boy with a decent personality and good looks would be the target of at least one love confession every year. Girls slipped them into the shoe lockers through the grill in the front.

He'd often wondered if there was some sort of form letter handed around among the girls in tenth grade, when they started high school. All the letters were basically the same; tearful declarations of undying love, telling him how they'd been watching him from afar all this time, and begging him to meet them somewhere so they could tell him in person. The notes were almost never signed; the idea was that by showing up at the meeting place he was saying he was at least interested, and then they'd reveal themselves to him face to face.

Like most boys, Issei never went to the meetings. It would be cruel to get the girl's hopes up by showing up, only to break them by telling her he wasn't interested. It was a little odd for him to have received such a note while he was officially dating Sakura already, but not unheard of. There was always the hope that he'd break it off when he realized how much better his secret admirer was, he supposed. If only they had any idea how hard it was for him to even be with Sakura! If he'd tried to be with a girl he didn't have a strong mental connection with, he wouldn't have been able to manage it.

"What's that?" Sakura asked as she walked past him and dropped into her own chair. He looked up, but before he could answer her, the bell rang and the teacher stepped into the classroom. Hastily he folded the note and shoved it in his pocket for later consideration.

The morning's classes seemed to creep by, which was a little unusual for Issei. He loved most of his subjects, even the traditionally 'boring' ones like Japanese literature or math. He couldn't stop thinking about the letter in his pocket, though. Normally he simply ignored them, then threw them away when he got home, so the poor girl wouldn't have her heart crushed by seeing it carelessly tossed in one of the school garbage cans. But there was something about this particular letter that made it different, though he couldn't put his finger on what it was. It was driving him to distraction.

"All right," Sakura said, turning in her seat the moment the lunch bell rang. "What is it? You've been out of it all day. The teacher had to call on you twice, and then remind you which paragraph to read. That's not like you."

Silently Issei passed her the confession letter. She scanned it, then raised an eyebrow at him. "So? This can't be the first one you've ever gotten. You're not only beautiful, you're sweet."

"No, of course it's not," Issei said, blushing at the compliments. "There's just... something different about this one. I can't figure out what, and it's bothering me. And until I figure it out, I won't be able to just set it aside and ignore it."

She laid it out on his desk, both of them leaning over it to keep it from anybody else's view, and studied it. After a moment Sakura's eyes went wide. "I know what it is. This is a guy's handwriting!"

Issei studied it again. The writing was all as blocky as his name on the front; there wasn't a great deal of kanji and none of what was present was complicated; that argued for it being someone who wasn't exactly the best student. Either that or they'd been afraid Issei wouldn't be able to read harder characters, but considering he was currently placing second overall in the school, that was unlikely.

But looking at it objectively, he had to agree that it was much more likely to be a boy's writing than a girl's. There were no extra little lifts or swirls on the ends of the strokes, no sign of the cutely drawn hearts that so often accented these letters. Not all males wrote in plain script, as he could attest to, and not all females used fancy script; but overall, it was more likely that this was a male's handwriting.

"I think you're right," he agreed, taking the note again and folding it up. "That must have taken a lot of guts for whoever it was." He slid the note back into the envelope, and put the whole thing back into his pocket. Resting his chin on his hand, he gazed off towards the blackboard, thinking about it.

"What are you going to do?" Sakura asked curiously. "Ignore it?"

"Normally I would, yes," Issei admitted with a small sigh. "I'm not sure what to do about this. You have no idea how much courage it must have taken this kid to give me this letter; I feel like I should at least meet him to assure him that I'm not going to turn around and spread it all over the school."

"That would be something to be afraid of, yes," Sakura admitted. "You're going to break his heart by showing up just to tell him you're not interested though, Issei."

"I know," Issei said. "That's why I usually just ignore them. I'd rather break his heart than have him spend the next couple of week wondering when the bullying will start, though."

"True enough," she acknowledged. "When did he ask to meet you?"

"After school," Issei said. "Behind the gym. Do you want to wait for me, or go ahead by yourself? I don't mind walking home alone if you don't want to wait."

"No, I'll wait for you. I can't imagine it will take that long for you to crush the poor thing," she said, grinning at him. "And knowing you and your empathy, you're probably going to need a shoulder to lean on after having all that emotional backlash directed at you, anyway."

"Probably," he admitted with a sigh. "That's the _other_ reason I never got to meet them. Though it's odd..."

"What is?" she asked when he trailed off in thought. He looked back at her, frowning.

"It's odd that I have no idea who it is," he said. "Usually I can tell a long time before they give me any notes. You have no idea how disconcerting it is to be the focus of that much unadulterated teenage _longing_ ," he added wryly. She stifled a laugh behind her hand, and he kicked the leg of her chair in retaliation. "Be serious," he scolded. "Anyway, I haven't sensed anything like that from anyone recently."

"Yeah, but your range is limited if you don't know the person well, right?" she asked, and he nodded. "It's probably not someone from our class, then. Someone who only ever sees you from a distance, or something. Maybe someone from one of the lower grades."

"I suppose that's possible," he said. "Well, I guess I'll find out when I go to meet him."

The afternoon passed as slowly as the morning had, and Issei almost got in trouble several times for inattention in class. He suspected that the only thing that saved him from a detention was the fact that he was one of the top students in the school.

Most of his attention was focused both inwards and outwards at the same time; inwards, on his empathic sense, and outwards as he sent that sense winding carefully through the room. His empathy was a little strange; when he was dealing with someone he knew well, he could be miles away and still closely connected, as when he'd shared the moon dreams with Jinpachi. The rest of the time, he was usually only aware of the people immediately around him, though.

He could extend that range if he concentrated on it, however. The prevailing emotion in the classroom was boredom, of course; that was to be expected in the middle of a history lesson by a teacher who was nearly as old and boring as his subject. Here and there were spikes of other emotions: the boy in the corner was angry for some reason; the girl by the door was badly worried about something.

Outside the room it was more of the same. Issei stretched himself as far as he could, but all he got for his trouble was a bad headache and an onslaught of conflicting emotions. There were several people in his range that had the sort of all-encompassing crush on someone that might prompt them to send a love confession; most were girls, a few were boys, but none of them had been aimed at him.

Which still didn't mean much; it was a big school, and even when he was concentrating on it, his range wasn't enough to cover even a large portion of it. He was just going to have to wait until after school to find out who had sent him the letter.

By the time the bell finally rang, Issei would have been willing to swear that the clock was so far behind the real time the sun should have gone down by now. It certainly seemed like the time had dragged on that much, every minute seeming to take hours.

"You going right back there?" Sakura asked as they picked up their bags and headed for the shoe lockers. "Want company?"

Issei only shook his head as she accompanied him to his locker. Reaching inside he grabbed his outdoor shoes, and quickly traded them for his school shoes. "No. If he sees someone with me, he might panic. Just wait out front for me, please?"

"All right," she agreed easily, taking his bag and turning and heading for her own locker. "I'll see you in a few minutes, then."

Issei went in the opposite direction, towards the back of the school. The grounds back there held the track, the large field that was used for sports like soccer, the gymnasium, and several clubhouse buildings, such as those for the kendo club and martial arts. As he stepped out into the sun, the girl's volleyball team went jogging by off to his left, and he could see the tennis club warming up over by the nets.

Grateful that he was a senior and was no longer required to participate in extracurricular activities, Issei made his way out towards the gymnasium. 'Behind' the gym actually meant the odd little corner that was formed by the wall of the gym and the curve of the auditorium. The kendo club's building, set at an angle due to the way the hill sloped here, blocked off most of the third side, leaving only a narrow passageway into the triangular space left over.

It was a favourite haunt of couples, and the preferred area of choice for love confessions, because it was so private. Issei took a moment to probe ahead with his power to ensure that it was actually empty at the moment before walking in; the last thing he wanted to do was catch a necking couple in the act.

It was empty, though, and he made his way inside to lean against the gym wall. He was still turning the possibilities over in his mind, trying to figure out who could have sent him this note. Had he noticed anyone watching him a lot lately? He didn't think so, and he was usually aware of people looking at him.

He had to admire the boy who'd sent him the letter, though. Even if he chickened out at the last minute and didn't actually show up to the meeting for fear of Issei's reaction, Issei didn't think _he'd_ have been brave enough to put a letter like this in another guy's shoe locker. Especially not a guy who had a girlfriend, which meant he was more than likely straight.

Granted, the letter hadn't been signed, and he still had only his own suspicions that it was a boy's handwriting to tell him a girl hadn't sent the letter. But he was certain of the gender of the sender, and the boy could easily have been caught putting the letter into Issei's locker, even if he hadn't signed the letter itself.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts, he almost missed the hesitant shuffle at the entrance to the corner. Looking up, his eyes widened as he saw one of the boys from his own class, Araki Jun. "Araki!" he exclaimed, shocked. He'd checked everyone in his classroom. There had been _nothing_ from Araki to indicate the sort of fascination that cause a person to send someone a love confession.

For that matter, although he didn't need to be empathic to sense the boy's understandable nervousness, what his empathy _was_ telling him was that Araki's fear had nothing to do with a fear of rejection.

"Nishikiyori," the other boy greeted him, sounding more frightened than nervous. "You... I... m-my letter..."

Could it be something as simple as fear that Issei would out him to the whole school? Maybe. Issei frowned slightly, trying to pin down just _what_ it was that Araki was so afraid of. "I admit I'm surprised it was you," he said softly, tilting his head to study the other boy. Araki, like Issei himself, had the sort of delicate body type and bone structure that got them labelled as 'pretty boys'. Despite that, Issei had never had any suspicious as to Araki's orientation. While admittedly he didn't know everything, his empathy usually gave him an edge in spotting people like that.

"You're not... disgusted?" Araki asked, his eyes wide. "You... don't seem surprised that I'm not a girl."

"Your handwriting gave you away," Issei told him with a smile. "I've never met a girl who writes like that. Especially not on a love confession letter, no matter how practical they are. Hell, you must have gotten as many as I have, you know what they're like."

"So you knew I was a guy, and you came anyway?" Araki insisted. Issei narrowed his eyes at the sudden spike of disgust from the other teen. _That_ didn't make any sense at all. If Araki had sent the letter, then why...

Too late, he dropped his shields completely, looking for anyone in the area rather than just focusing on Araki. He became aware of the menacing anger and hatred of three people just before they blocked off the entrance to the space, right behind Araki. Issei recognized them vaguely; one of them was in his class, the other two were in another senior class; all three were known for being the star players on the soccer team in their junior year.

They all outweighed Issei by at least half again his bodyweight, and they were blocking the only way out. Issei had felt that particular combination of emotions from someone far too many times not to recognize it now; these were gay bashers, and they'd decided to target him.

"See? I was right," the leader, Shinohara Yasuhiro, said. "He _is_ gay. Him dating Kokusho is just a cover up."

"I gotta admit I thought they were for real, but I guess you're right, Hiro," Tomizawa Shino agreed. "Damn, I thought we were done when we chased off the last of the freaks!"

"Hey, I did what you wanted, all right?" Araki had his back flattened against the wall opposite Issei, trying to keep an eye on both him and the three jocks at the same time. "Now give me back my damn bag and let me go!"

Kanai Yuuji, the last of the three, tossed Araki his book bag with a smirk. Araki checked briefly inside to make sure everything was there, scowled at Issei, and slipped out through the gap the three gave him.

Issei debated trying to make a break for it through that gap, but they closed it again before he'd taken more than a step. Immediately he backed up to the wall again, not wanting them to be able to surround him.

"Now it's just you and us, Nishikiyori," Shinohara said with a nasty grin. "I knew there was something wrong about you the minute you showed up here. Now I'll grant you that Araki has managed to prove to us that not _all_ you pretty boys are gay, but you're so damn effeminate you might as well be a girl!"

Issei ignored his words; he'd heard them all before, half a hundred times. Did bullies like this actually think they were being original, either in their actions or their dialogue? Or did they realize they were being cheesy, and play up to it? He suspected the former.

Instead, he paid them only enough attention to listen for the cue that they were going to start swinging punches, and spent those precious moments analyzing the situation, trying to find a way out. The roofs of the buildings around him were too high for him to get up to. The three of them were thoroughly blocking the only way out, but they'd have to move out of it to get close enough to hit him, and that would be his only chance. The space here was small enough that if they got him surrounded when he tried to bolt, he not only wouldn't have anywhere to run, there wouldn't be room to fight properly.

"Are you even listening to me?" Shinohara demanded irritably, and Issei switched his attention back to the other teen.

"Why should I?" Issei asked, eyes narrowed. "It's not as if there's anything I can say or do to change what's coming. You've already made up your minds about me."

"Listen to him, he's not even ashamed of himself," Kanai muttered in disbelief. Issei shook his head. It never failed to amaze him how people like this could take _anything_ he said and twist it to suit their own needs. What he'd said amounted to 'you're wrong, but I can't convince you so I'm not going to try,' and instead they'd heard 'you're right, and I don't care what you think about me.'

"I don't care what your grades are, people like you aren't welcome in this school!" Tomizawa snapped. "This is a good school, we don't want any freaks around!"

"So we're going to make you think twice about your choice of schools, just like we did to all the other freaks," Shinohara agreed with another smirk. Issei tensed; this was it. They were going to come at him, and he _had_ to get by them now or he wouldn't likely get another chance. "Let's teach him a lesson, guys!"

Shinohara took two steps forward, flanked by his friends, and Issei pushed away from the wall. He used the momentum to throw himself into a spinning roundhouse kick that caught Shinohara high on the chest, with enough force to send the larger teen stumbling back into Kanai. That left a gap between Shinohara and Tomizawa; Issei made a break for it.

Briefly he wished for Haruhiko or Rin's ability to teleport, even though he wouldn't have dared use it in plain view like this. He was fast and agile enough that he almost made it past them anyway; then a rough hand caught him by the back of his uniform jacket and yanked him off his feet.

He slammed into the ground hard enough to knock the air from his lungs, but he was well enough trained that he kicked out at the person who'd grabbed him anyway. A yelp of pain told him he'd connected, and he rolled quickly to his feet. That was as far as he got before a fist connected with his face, making him see stars as he staggered back into the wall. He was going to have a black eye shortly, and if he didn't get out of here quickly it would swell shut and leave him handicapped.

He saw the next punch coming in time to duck, and Kanai's fist hit the wall instead. The big teen cursed and kicked at him, his heavy shoe catching Issei at the top of his thigh and making his entire leg explode in pain for a moment. Still trying to get his breath back, Issei threw a punch of his own, coming up from his crouch and driving his fist into Kanai's solar plexus with all his strength. Kanai choked and doubled over, putting him out of the fight for a few moments.

Before he could even start to refocus his attention someone grabbed his left arm and pulled it around behind him, twisting it up against his back until his shoulder threatened to give way. Issei cried out and kicked back, but whoever it was, they weren't standing quite close enough for him to reach by kicking blindly.

Now he was in a tight spot; with a pull one way his attacker could dislocate his shoulder, with a sharp jerk in another he'd break the arm. Issei had already had more than enough broken bones for the year. He didn't need any more.

Shinohara stepped into view in front of him, which meant the person holding him was Tomizawa. Issei started to kick at Shinohara instead, but a jerk on his captive arm made him freeze with a little cry of pain. Obviously Tomizawa wasn't going to hesitate to push further if Issei continued to struggle.

"You fight pretty well for a freak," Shinohara commented, glancing at Kanai who was still gasping for air. Issei's own wind had returned, but his chest burned painfully with every breath he took. "I guess we're not the first ones to teach you a lesson, hmm? For such a good student, Nishikiyori, you're an awfully slow learner."

"Actually I think it's more of a flaw in the subject matter..." Issei broke off with a choked noise as Tomizawa pulled his arm higher yet, forcing him to his knees with the pain.

"That's a pretty good position for you, right there," Shinohara said, and Issei shivered as the rage and hatred coming from the three shifted to add lust to the mix as well. So it wasn't going to stop at a beating; he hadn't really expected it to, but this was the first time he'd been caught like this, without Jinpachi to call on for help. He could call Sakura, but what could she do? They were likely to hurt or rape her too, for 'helping him cover up'. Sakura was strong-willed enough that she'd wade in trying to save him, but she was no fighter. He refused to be responsible for putting her through that kind of emotional trauma.

"You want to be a girl so badly, Nishikiyori, we'll let you have what you want," Shinohara purred, making his two friends laugh. "Who wants to go first? Kanai, you got hit the hardest, I think that gives you first dibs."

"With pleasure," Kanai smirked. Having caught his breath at last, the athletic teen stepped forward, giving Issei a 'tap' on the jaw. He prayed Kanai wouldn't hit him there again; he'd managed to land the blow right where the break had been, and although it was healed now, the bone was still weak and likely to break again. "I think I'll try out that pretty mouth of his."

"What _is_ it with you people that you think raping your victims is somehow anything other than 'gay'?" Issei demanded. That earned him a backhand from Kanai - to the other side of his face this time, thankfully. Truthfully, it had been a rhetorical question. Issei knew what drove gay haters to rape their victims; partly it was the sense of power, the enjoyment of seeing the 'freak' helpless before them. Partly it was their only chance to express their own deeply hidden desire to know what fucking another male felt like. Most people were less straight than they'd like to believe, he'd learned, and it was the fear of admitting their own illicit desires that drove boys like these to beat on people like him, who provoked them into lusting after him.

"Shut the fuck up," Kanai said, and reached for his zipper. Issei's stomach churned as the other boy drew out his already hard length; it was starting to hit him now that he actually was going to be raped this time. Rape was a horrible experience for anyone, but ten times worse for an empath, who was forced to share the pleasure of their attacker. Issei didn't know that from personal experience, but Enju had, and it wasn't something he wanted to experience in this life.

"You put that thing in my mouth and I'll bite it off," he threatened desperately. That earned him another wrench on his arm, making all the blood drain from his face.

"If I see you even started to bite, I'll break your arm so bad they'll never be able to get it straight again," Tomizawa leaned down to murmur in his ear.

"And you'd better try hard to please us, or we might decide to see how many rounds we can go, instead of only having you once each," Shinohara added lazily from where he'd leaned back against the wall to watch. He was also blocking the entrance, preventing anyone who might have happened by from seeing inside.

Issei closed his eyes as Kanai grabbed him by the hair and yanked backwards, forcing his face to tilt up. _No, no, please Sarjareem no, I can't do this,_ he prayed desperately. He knew it was useless; Sarjareem did not interfere in her people's lives directly, and she wouldn't save him now any more than she had saved Enju a lifetime ago.

He fought to keep his shields up, but his own terror and panic were eating away at them, already allowing the lust and anticipation from Kanai to sweep over him. He felt his body go hard and shuddered with revulsion. He wanted to be sick, or pass out, or anything to get him away from this horror, but with Kanai touching him Issei was locked into resonating with the other teen, helpless to fight the desire that was being projected at him.

He felt something touch his lips and tried to jerk his head away, pressing his mouth closed and refusing to take it. A sharp warning tug on his arm made him cry out, catching his mistake an instant too late as he realized he'd just opened his mouth for Kanai.

But instead of the expected intrusion, Kanai's hand tightened in his hair and the other teen swore. "What the fuck was that?"

"What? Did he do something?" Tomizawa asked, pulling on Issei's arm again. Issei bit his lip to keep from crying out again, the smaller pain distracting him from the larger one.

"No! Shit, it happened again! Just a stab of pain, out of nowhere," Kanai muttered.

"If you're chickening out, Yuuji, then I'll take my turn with him," Shinohara said, stepping forward. Kanai turned and growled at him.

"I'm not chickening out, Hiro!" Kanai protested. "I'm telling you, it was just this weird pain out of nowhere..."

Issei's eyes flew open as he realized what was happening. Unlike Enju, who had almost never used her powers, he'd had a lot of practice with them, albeit unconsciously, in sharing the moon dreams with Jinpachi. He was better at projecting emotions than she had been. His empathy was locked on the nearest highly charged emotional source, Kanai... _but the bond went both ways!_ Kanai had been feeling _Issei's_ pain each time Tomizawa yanked on his arm!

And in realizing that, Issei saw the way out of this mess. It meant potentially exposing himself as a psychic, but he'd take that over being raped any day. In the few seconds that Kanai and Shinohara continued to argue, he forced his focus wider to include all three of the other teens in his mental sphere of influence, and then deliberately moved in such a way that Tomizawa's grip pulled his arm painfully high again.

He grabbed that sensation, multiplied it by every memory of a painful injury that he had, and threw out it out at the three of them.

"What the... fuck?" was all one of them had time to blurt out, before all three of them were writhing under the onslaught of pain. Tomizawa released Issei, but he had the memory of the sensation locked in his mind now, and didn't need additional stimulation to keep projecting.

What he should have anticipated, but hadn't, was the feedback loop; as they experienced the pain, they projected it back at him, and then his mind tangled it up with what he was already projecting and increased the intensity. It spiralled upwards out of control almost immediately; Issei was barely able to slam his shields back into place and force himself to stop projecting before he passed out alongside the three of them.

The three bullies were collapsed in the small space, barely conscious. Kanai had thrown up all over himself and Shinohara; Tomizawa had wet and shit his pants, from the look and smell of it. Still reeling from the after effects and implications of what he'd just done, Issei staggered for the entrance to the corner, and out into the yard again.

His stomach was churning, threatening to bring his lunch back up for review at any moment. He'd just used his empathy offensively against someone. He hadn't even known that was _possible_. He'd never have thought himself capable of doing something that... ugly. Justified or not, it had been a horrible thing to do, and there was a possibility that the three of them might never recover from it. He might have blown their minds out.

Whatever the reason was, he never, ever wanted to be forced to use his powers like that again. He felt like it had been a violation of the worst kind, just as bad as what they'd been planning to do to him; and he hadn't only violated them, he'd violated himself in the process.


	11. Chapter 11

Somehow he found himself at the front of the school, though he didn't realize it until he registered the frantic hands tugging at his sleeve and a high pitched voice calling his name. Still locked in a defensive cycle from the fight, he started to lash out, only pulling his blow at the last moment when he finally actually _looked_ and saw who it was that was trying to get his attention.

Sakura didn't flinch back from the almost-blow, though if it had landed she'd have had a black eye to match his. "Issei, what _happened_?" she demanded, eyes wide and full of concern. "You look like hell! Are you okay?"

"Saku..." that was all he got out before his stomach rebelled, forcefully. He bolted for the nearest bush and fell to his knees as his stomach heaved its contents free of his body. He kept gagging long after there was nothing left to bring up, his entire system in shock and protesting what he'd just done.

Cool hands soothed his brow, and it wasn't until they pushed back the hair that was clinging to the wet spots on his face that he realized he was crying harshly. Dimly it occurred to him that everyone still at school was probably watching the spectacle he was making of himself; tomorrow he'd regret not being able to keep his control until he was somewhere less public, but right now all he could do was shiver and cry.

"You done?" Sakura asked, when he'd finally stopped heaving. He nodded, still sobbing too hard to speak, and she tugged him gently to his feet. "Come on," she said, not asking any further questions for the moment. "We need to get you out of here."

He leaned on her as she helped steady him enough to walk straight, and once again was beyond grateful to have her for a friend. Anyone else would probably have been bombarding him with questions; she knew him well enough to know that if he was upset this badly, she needed to get him somewhere private and calmed down before he lost control and started projecting at everyone in range.

"Thank you," he choked out between sobs, the words hardly more than a whisper. She heard anyway, and squeezed his arm where she held it.

"I love you," she replied, and feeling the emotion behind her words helped him fight some of the sick despair that had enveloped him. He hugged her close, and she tightened her arms in reply. "Let's get you cleaned up so we can go home."

She led him back into the school, towards the science wing. He was really only half conscious of where they were going, his mind still too dazed to process everything that was going on around him. They had to make sure they didn't run into any teachers; Issei could be suspended for fighting, regardless of the circumstances.

Sakura used one of her hairpins to pick the simple lock, and moments later they were inside with the door shut again. She sat him down on a stool, and went to grab a stack of paper towels. She dampened a couple, then loosened his jacket and shirt collar and laid them on the back of his neck.

Issei was huddled in on himself, still crying, as she carefully cleaned him up. He was covered in dirt from scuffling on the ground, and his eye was already turning a nasty shade of black. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked softly as she worked.

He had to swallow twice before he could get his voice to work well enough to answer her. "It was a trap," he said, voice shaking and breathy with the hysterics he was barely containing. "Th-they bullied Araki into pretending he'd s-sent the letter. They w-wanted to see how I'd react to having a guy h-hit on me."

"And when you didn't react badly, they descended to beat the living shit out of you, I take it," she said dryly, and he nodded faintly. "But why are you so upset? You didn't have any trouble facing those guys in the club, and you've mentioned that people have been bullying you all your life..."

She broke off when he started sobbing again. He didn't make any noise this time, not wanting to bring a teacher to investigate what should have been an empty classroom, but his shoulders shook with the strain of containing them. "Issei? What is it, what happened?" she asked, a little frantic now.

Then all the blood drained from her face, and her hand tightened on his arm. He could feel alarm and horror rush through her. "Oh, no. They... they didn't..."

He shook his head, knowing what she was trying to say. "They didn't rape me. They tried, but I..." his voice broke, and he had to wait a moment before he could speak. "I turned my Empathy on them, Sakura. I forced them to feel what I was feeling, and I unintentionally set up a feedback loop. I... I think I might have destroyed their minds..."

She was silent for a moment as he broke down again, then she stepped forward and pulled him into a gentle hug. He panicked and struggled, afraid that touching her would overwhelm his too-fragile shields, and not wanting to force what he was feeling on her as well. She held on, though, and after a moment he realized she was deliberately avoiding skin contact. Having her touch him through two layers of clothes wasn't really any different than having her standing right beside him, except in the visceral comfort it gave him. He relaxed into her embrace, sobbing softly into her shoulder as she held him.

After a while, he realized she was speaking softly. She was rocking him slightly, murmuring comforting words over and over. Most of it was just repetitive nonsense, but it was the tone that was important, as they both knew. It worked, too; he could feel the harsh roil of his emotions calming slowly under the influence of her voice and the concern and love she felt for him.

Finally he pulled away, wiping his face on his sleeve. She chuckled slightly, and pulled his hand away. "Don't. You've got dirt all over your jacket, you're just spreading it across your face."

His lips twitched despite himself, as he glanced down to see that she was right. "Sarjareem, I'm a mess, aren't I?" he asked ruefully, his voice still thick with tears but no longer shaky with panic.

"You did what you had to do," she told him firmly, wetting another towel and going back to work cleaning him up. He winced when she touched the area around his eye, and she sighed. "Honestly, you are the worst magnet for facial bruising, I swear. Will you be okay for a minute if I run down to the cafeteria and get you some ice for that?"

"I think so," he agreed. "There's nobody in this end of the building, I should be okay until you get back.

"Okay, then." She leaned forward as if to kiss him like she usually did when they parted in private, but he flinched back from the touch, wide-eyed. Her eyes went wide, then soft, and she patted his arm where the shirt covered it instead. "Sorry. I should've thought. I'll be right back."

She slipped out through the door, leaving it unlocked behind her. Issei reached over and ran the cold water until it was freezing to the touch, wetting more of the towels and placing them over his eye. It wasn't as good as ice, but it was better than nothing. He was hoping to keep it from swelling so badly he lost the sight through that eye.

He wasn't sure how he was going to explain any of this. The three boys would be found soon enough, and if he'd done real damage, the police would almost certainly be brought into the investigation. Araki could testify that Issei had been the only one with the three bullies when he'd left; that meant the police would be looking for _him_ for an explanation of what had happened.

And he didn't have one. Not unless he wanted to admit to being an empath, and tell them what he was apparently capable of. He had no illusions about what would happen then; he'd either be claimed by the scientific community or possibly the military one. Either way, he'd spend the rest of his life being studied, a specimen in a cage rather than a human being. He'd kill himself first.

The door slid open as Sakura returned, carrying a bag of ice wrapped in a towel, and a uniform jacket she'd apparently snitched from somewhere. She helped him into the jacket, which was a little too big for him, and tucked his other one into her satchel, tightly folded. He held the ice to his eye as they headed for the door.

"Your attackers have been found," she said quietly as they walked along the empty halls. "The rumours are all over the school. Nobody's said anything about you yet, though."

"They will," Issei said wearily. "Araki knows I was there with them, and I'm sure at least half a dozen people saw my little display out in front of the school."

"Maybe we can ask Rin to help us?" Sakura suggested. "He could go in and get the reports from inside the police station, or something..."

"And make the investigating officers even more suspicious? No way," Issei shook his head. "And the absolute last thing we want is Rin messing with anybody's head to make them forget..."

"Nishikiyori!"

The call came from behind them, and Issei turned with a sense of dread to see Araki standing in one of the doorways they'd just passed. The other teen's eyes widened when he saw the state Issei was in, and he had the grace to at least look a little shamed. "What the hell did you do to those three?" he asked, with a tone of morbid curiosity. "Not that they didn't have it coming, whatever it was, but..."

"Are you going to turn me in?" Issei interrupted him shortly. He didn't have the patience to play around the subject.

Araki hesitated, then shook his head. "No. Like I said, they had it coming. Look, I didn't write the letter or anything... they just cornered me after school and made me go in and tell you I had. I haven't got anything against, you know, those sorts of people."

Issei started to snap at him, but remembered just in time that the other boy had no way of knowing that Issei had felt the surge of revulsion and disgust when he'd found out Issei had known the letter was written by a male, and had shown up anyway. "Good," was all he said, then he added bluntly in a moment of inspiration, "then I won't have to name you as an accessory to an assault and battery and attempted rape."

Araki turned pale, his eyes huge. "What? I... no way! I didn't do anything!" Issei just stared back at him. They both knew perfectly well that, bullied into it or not, Araki could be held responsible for his part in trapping Issei into that corner. After a moment the other boy's shoulders slumped. "All right, all right. I said I wouldn't tell them anything. I won't get you in shit if you don't get me in shit, all right? Now get the hell out of here before too many people see you looking like that, and they don't need me to turn you in!"

"Fair enough," Issei said with a silent sigh of relief. Sakura, who had wisely stayed quiet during the exchange, tugged on his arm, and they turned back towards the exit.

They left through one of the side doors, avoiding the crowd of gossiping kids at the front where the ambulance was pulling away, and at the back where the three boys had been found. Since everyone else was running _towards_ the crowds, they actually managed to get away without anybody getting a good look at Issei's bruised face.

The walk home seemed interminable to Issei. He felt drained of energy, both physically and emotionally. Sakura didn't try to take his hand for once, for which he was grateful. He really didn't think he could deal with any physical contact right now.

And that worried him. Every time he thought about touching Sakura, the first thing he thought of was the way he'd felt as Kanai's lust had started to overwhelm him. It wasn't the same thing at _all_ , damn it; what he was doing with Sakura was entirely voluntary on his part. She wasn't forcing him to enjoy her raping him, _he_ was using her emotions to build desire where there was none! It wasn't the same thing!

Was it?

At the moment, at least, his subconscious really didn't care what sort of semantics his logical mind used to describe the two examples; as far as it was concerned, they were one and the same thing. The thought of touching her, of feeling her emotions invade his, was making him panic and tighten his shields, even though she was making no move to actually do anything.

He knew it was probably just emotional backlash from the near rape. Rape victims often had trouble dealing with touch afterwards, even from people they trusted, right? This was the same thing. Eventually it would surely go away. And Sakura would be patient with him, if he asked it of her. She'd waited this long for him, after all.

She was casting frequent worried looks at him as they walked, but was making no attempt to draw him out or make him talk. Apparently she'd decided to leave him be to work things through on his own, at least for now. For someone who had such a pushy personality, Sakura could be remarkably perceptive about when to back off sometimes. He was thankful this was one of those times.

At last the house came into view, and they both heaved a relieved sigh at the same moment. That made them look at each other in surprise, and then they laughed, though the sound was a little shaky.

"C'mon, it looks like that ice has almost melted," Sakura said, gesturing towards the door. "Let's go get you some more."

"Almost?" Issei said, lifting the now soaking wet towel from his face. "It hasn't been solid for the last few minutes, and that plastic baggie you put the ice in is _not_ water tight."

She chuckled softly, and opened the front door. They both stepped in, Sakura calling as always, "Mom, Dad, we're home!"

"Hello, you two," her mother replied, poking her head in from the kitchen. She gasped when she saw Issei's eye. "Oh, dear! Just a moment, I'll get you some ice to put on that." She vanished and returned before Issei was even done removing his shoes, handing him a chemical coldpack, also wrapped in a towel to keep it from giving him frostbite. He exchanged it for his sopping towel, and raised it to his face gratefully.

"You have a guest, Sakura-chan," her mother told them as she was fussing over Issei. "Shall I tell him to come back another day? He's waiting in the living room."

Sakura glanced over at Issei, who shrugged. He hadn't been expecting anyone, and apparently neither had Sakura, judging by the look on her face. "Yeah, mom, that's probably a good idea," she said. "Now's not really a good time. Who is it, anyway?"

"It's just me, Sakura." Issei froze, his heart pounding, as a familiar voice came from the direction of the living room. "I never intended to stay long anyway, I just want to ask you... _Issei?_ "

Trembling, Issei turned to face the living room doorway, already knowing who would be there. Absolutely the last person on earth he wanted to deal with right at this particular moment. "Jinpachi."


	12. Chapter 12

The two boys just stood looking at each other for a long moment, while Sakura's mother looked back and forth between them in confusion. "Oh, no," Sakura muttered. "Ogura, now is REALLY not a good time for this... can you please come back later?"

Jinpachi rounded on Sakura, pointing an accusing finger at her. "You told me you didn't know where he was! Has he been here with you the whole time?"

Under other circumstances Issei would have protested being spoken about as if he weren't present, but at the moment he was more than happy to stay quiet and let Sakura handle this. He was shaking again, not just trembling; seeing Jinpachi, his first instinct had been an overwhelming urge to just throw himself into the other boy's arms and huddle there, protected and safe. He'd first met Jinpachi when the other boy had saved him from bullies; ever since then, the redhead had been looking out for Issei.

More than that, he wanted to feel Jinpachi hold him, to wash away the memories of his near-rape. He knew he was dreaming if he thought Jinpachi would do anything other than push him away; his long-time best friend hadn't been comfortable touching him since the day Issei had broken down and kissed him. That didn't stop the desire for it from pushing at him, though.

"I told you he'd contacted me and that he was transferring schools, and that I'd tell him you called the next time I spoke to him," Sakura countered evenly, hands planted on her hips. She stepped in front of Issei, putting herself halfway between him and Jinpachi in what was probably a subconscious protective gesture on her part. "All of which was true."

Jinpachi growled and shook his head, looking past her at Issei. "Look, I'm not leaving until you either talk to me, or physically throw me out. Take your pick."

"Please, Jinpachi, can't it wait until later?" Issei begged, his voice wavering. He was on the edge of breaking down again, and the swirl of anger and hurt feelings the other teen was radiating at him wasn't helping the matter.

"No!" Jinpachi exclaimed. "If I leave, you'll probably be gone by the time I get back. Why is it so difficult for me to just _talk_ to you all of a sudden, Issei? Are we friends or not?"

Issei closed his eyes, and fought for control of his fluctuating emotions. "All right. We'll talk. I'm sorry to be the cause of so much trouble," he added formally to Sakura's mother.

"That's all right, Issei-kun," she said, still sounding faintly confused. "Why don't the three of you use the living room, then? Would any of you like something to eat or drink?"

"We're fine, Mom," Sakura said softly, jerking her chin at the living room doorway. Jinpachi gave her one last hard look, then turned and re-entered the room. Sakura caught Issei's arm before he could follow. "You sure you're up to this?" she asked, her eyes worried.

"I don't think he could possibly have picked a worse moment to show up, but I don't really have much choice, Sakura," he replied wearily. "I'll be fine. It's not like he's going to hurt me." _I don't think so, anyway,_ he added silently to himself. Right now, the way he felt, he wasn't sure he trusted _anyone_ not to hurt him, not even Jinpachi or Sakura.

"You want me in there with you for support?" she asked, and he shook his head silently. "All right. But I'm staying out in the kitchen with Mom, in case you need me, okay?"

"Thank you," he said, then stepped forward and broke free of her hold on him.

Entering the living room, he saw Jinpachi standing near the front window, arms crossed over his chest. He turned at the sound of Issei entering the room, and the empath froze in place, feeling pinned by his friend's gaze.

Jinpachi studied him for a long moment, then his eyes went to the icepack Issei was still holding to his eye. "What happened? Bullies?" he asked, his voice slightly softer than it had been.

"Yes," Issei said shortly. That was a subject he really didn't want to discuss right now. Especially not with Jinpachi. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep from breaking down if he had to think about how close he'd come to being raped, while the person who _should_ have been there to watch his back watched him with unfriendly eyes. "It's not a big deal," he said instead, the lie sticking in his throat and coming out a little hoarse. "What do you want, Jinpachi? Why are you here?"

At his flat, unfriendly tone, the redhead gave him a look that was as much bewilderment as anger. "Why am I here? I'm here looking for _you_ , you idiot! Where the hell have you been? You say you'll see me in school the next day, and then never show up. When I tried to call you, your cell phone was out of service. I called your house three or four times, and either your mother would burst into tears on me, or your father would slam the phone down. Hell, until Sakura told me she'd heard from you, I was starting to think you were dead or something!"

Issei lowered his eyes. Part of him wanted to feel bad for the worry he'd put Jinpachi through. Another part of him was warmed by the knowledge that Jinpachi _did_ still care about him at least that much. But any time he thought about forgiving his friend as his heart urged him to do, the sound of laughter and a dial tone echoed in his ears.

Jinpachi had abandoned him, when he'd needed his friend the most. Not on purpose, no... but he hadn't made any real effort to find out why Issei was calling, only brushed him off. And even now, knowing that Issei had disappeared immediately following that night, it still hadn't occurred to him to wonder if maybe the phone call Issei had made to him, out of the blue and late at night, might have had something to do with the whole mess.

He loved Jinpachi, he really did, and he was starting to think he always would... but the redhead was not particularly good at putting random details together to come up with the whole story.

Issei sighed, and rubbed at the side of his face that wasn't bruised, trying to think past the confused emotions knotted inside him, feeding off Jinpachi's anger and hurt. "Jinpachi... look. I'm sorry I put you through that, all right? My intention wasn't to hurt you. I asked Sakura not to tell you I was there when you called because I... I just couldn't face talking to you right then, all right?"

"Why the hell not?" Jinpachi wanted to know. "Issei, are we friends or not?"

If it had been another time, if Issei hadn't just been dragged through hell and back, if Jinpachi hadn't taken such a defensive tone, if he hadn't been radiating so much anger... if, if, if. As it was, though he knew he'd probably regret it later, Issei couldn't keep himself from lashing back at the other boy.

"We _were_ friends, Jinpachi. We were good friends, once. Then we were not so good friends, and then I don't think we were anything more than people who used to be friends." His grey eyes snapped with anger that was as much his own as reflected from Jinpachi. "When was the last time we went out and did something together? When was the last time one of us stayed over at the other's house? When was the last time we even hung out in between classes, Jinpachi?"

Jinpachi actually took a step back, shocked at the sudden surge of anger from his normally placid friend. "That's as much your fault as mine, Issei! You never made any effort to..."

"Didn't I?" Issei cut him off. "Think long and hard before you make that accusation, Jinpachi. Did I not make any effort to keep our friendship alive? None at all?"

The redhead shifted uncomfortably, unable to meet Issei's eyes. They both knew Issei had tried, in the beginning, to keep things working between them. How could he not have? Jinpachi was his life. And that had been the problem.

As Jinpachi decided to remind him now. "Yeah, well, if you hadn't _kissed_ me in the first place, I wouldn't have been so damned uncomfortable around you!" he burst out, turning back to glare at Issei. "But that doesn't mean I wouldn't get worried about you when you just vanish like that, Issei!"

"It really doesn't matter whose fault it is, Jinpachi. What's done is done." Issei's voice went abruptly from angry to weary. He felt so drained, swinging wildly from one emotion to the next the way he had been since school had ended. He couldn't take much more of this before he snapped completely. "You hurt me too much, too often, and then you finally went too far. I can't take any more, Jinpachi. I just can't."

His friend stared at him for a long moment, and for that moment, Issei felt nothing but shock from him. Then the anger returned, and the hurt, doubled and doubled again. "What the hell did I _do_?" he shouted. "Just tell me that much, huh? The last time I talked to you, you said you'd see me in school the next day! You didn't seem angry at me then, and if you were angry at me in school earlier that day, you were hiding it damn well!"

"The fact that I even have to _tell_ you what you did wrong just proves my point for me, Jinpachi!" Issei yelled back. "We're not friends anymore, and there's no point in beating a dead horse! Just let it go while we're still on civil terms, at least!"

"What? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Jinpachi demanded. "Gods, Issei, you think like such a damn girl sometimes!"

The ringing sound of flesh striking flesh hung in the room, and the two boys stared at each other for a moment in silence, chests heaving. It wasn't until Issei saw the red mark spreading over Jinpachi's cheek, and felt the stinging in his hand, that he realized what had just happened. He'd _slapped_ Jinpachi!

The redhead was looking at him in astonishment, one hand raised to touch the red mark on his face. Issei had put enough force behind the blow to make it sting, and sting hard, but with an open-handed slap like that Jinpachi was unlikely to end up with a bruise. Still, the shock of it hung between them, choking them both with its force. Neither of them had ever raised a hand to the other, not even in play.

"Go ahead," Issei growled finally. "Say it. Tell me that was a feminine thing to do. I dare you."

"Issei..." Jinpachi's voice faltered off, like the other boy had no idea what to say. Issei was shaking with reaction again, and he knew he needed to get out of there quickly, before he broke down entirely.

"It's over, Jinpachi. Ogura," he corrected himself deliberately, and Jinpachi's eyes widened. "It was a good friendship while it lasted. Now go away and leave me alone for a couple of years, until it doesn't hurt so much to look at you."

With that he spun and bolted, ignoring Jinpachi's startled protests from behind him. Sakura had appeared in the doorway, probably brought from the kitchen by the sound of him slapping his friend; he pushed roughly past her and ignored _her_ concerned inquires as well, running down the hall to his room and slamming the door behind him.

Once he was securely shut in, he collapsed in the corner of his bed, pulling his knees up tight to his chest and sobbing into them as though his heart would break. Would break, hell, it _had_ broken.

The worst of it was, despite everything, he still loved Jinpachi with all his heart. The contrast between his panicked need to avoid contact with Sakura and his desperate desire to throw himself into Jinpachi's arms only highlighted what he'd known all along. It was still Jinpachi that he loved, and he was beginning to think it always would be.

Distantly he was aware of raised voices from the front of the house. It sounded like Sakura was telling Jinpachi off, but Issei couldn't bring himself to care. He felt like there was a gaping wound in his soul, that he was slowly bleeding out through the hole. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was begging Sarjareem to shelter him from this horrible pain, but there was no rush of divine glory or sacred warmth. There was only him and the turmoil of his own emotions.

He'd badly hurt, maybe permanently crippled or even killed three boys today. Three boys who had been trying to rape him. He'd been forced to feel the pleasure of his would-be rapist, and now that sick feeling was twisting what he'd been trying to do with Sakura. And to top it all off, he'd just driven the one person who might have been able to help him put himself back together out of his life for good.

There was a knock on the door, and he huddled a little tighter into his corner. "Issei?" Sakura called softly. "Can I come in?"

He shook his head, not wanting her to see him like this, but couldn't force any sound to emerge from his throat. "Issei, please, I need to talk to you... you can't stay like this!" Sakura sounded genuinely upset, like she was crying, though he couldn't imagine why she would be.

"Go away," he managed to say, but his voice was too quiet to even reach past the end of his bed, let alone to the door. Before he could try again, the door opened and Sakura entered, her face streaked with tears. She was still sniffling and crying, biting her lip as if in an attempt to stop herself.

Issei pulled still farther in on himself, burying his face in his knees. "Go away," he repeated, a little louder this time.

"I can't," Sakura said, her voice wavering with a fresh wave of tears. "Issei, love, you _have_ to calm down! You're projecting all over the house, probably over half the block given how strong this is. Mom's in hysterics, and Dad looks like he wants to kill somebody. Even Ogura was crying when he left."

Issei closed his eyes. He knew she was right, that he had to get control over himself before he gave his powers away, but could he not just _once_ be able to feel as bad as he deserved to feel, without having to feel guilty about inflicting it on everyone else?

Slowly, painfully, he yanked his shields back into place. They were paper-thin and would break at the slightest outside pressure, but they were enough to keep his emotions locked inside him, at least for now. He could tell it was working when Sakura's muffled sobs slowed to the occasional sniffle.

"There," he growled, still not looking at her. " _Now_ go away!"

He felt her hesitate, then the futon shifted as she settled next to him, far enough away that she wasn't touching him, but still much too close for his comfort. "Did you not hear me, Kokusho? Go away!" He deliberately used her last name, something he hadn't done since the first days he'd known her, trying to drive her away.

"No," she said, simply. "You're hurting, and you're only going to keep hurting if I let you sit here and brood. Talk to me, Issei."

"About what?" he snarled, still reacting to the emotions now locked within him rather than actually thinking about what he was saying or doing. "You want to hear about why I hit Jinpachi? Or maybe what I did to those three bullies, in detail? Or hell, maybe about what they almost did to _me?_ Or..."

"Stop it!" She grabbed him roughly by the shoulders and shook him. "Issei, stop it! You're being irrational! I'm not here to hurt you, I want to help! I love you, remember?" She stopped shaking him and pulled him into a tight embrace, resting her chin on his hair and wrapping her arms around his back, with his knees pressed up against her chest.

Slowly, Issei let the anger slide away from him under the weight of her love and concern. Even more slowly, some of the pain slid away as well, though by no means all of it. And he knew it would be back to haunt him, later when she was gone.

"Sakura..." he whispered, and choked on the name, crying again. For the second time that day she just held him while he cried himself out, and for the second time that day she was successful in calming him down.

"I'm sorry," he said at last as he uncurled slightly and turned so his head was resting properly on her shoulder. She shifted into a more comfortable position as well, and they settled there, just breathing quietly and listening to each other's sniffles. "I wasn't projecting again, was I?" he asked when he realized she was crying too.

"Not past me, I don't think," she said quietly. "I got it because I was touching you. I didn't hear my mom start up again, anyway."

"I'll have to find some way of apologizing to them for that without letting them know it was me," Issei remarked. "I've never just lost control like that before."

"You've had a rough day," Sakura pointed out dryly. "Having Ogura waiting here was like the cosmic icing on the cake. You want to talk about what happened? I thought I heard someone get hit..."

"I... I slapped him," he admitted, and her eyes went wide.

"You did not!" she exclaimed, and he only nodded. "Oh my gods. Why?"

"He wanted to know what he'd done wrong. He _still_ hadn't figured out that my phone call to him that night might be related to the fact that I disappeared the next day." Issei sighed again. "I told him that him needing to ask me what he'd done wrong was just proof that our friendship wasn't much of a friendship anymore, and he accused me of acting like a girl."

"Ouch." Sakura winced. "All right, I can see why you hit him. Coming from someone who didn't know about Enju, that would have been tactless, but somewhat accurate; that _is_ a very female sort of accusation to make. Coming from him, it was just thoughtless."

"I can't believe I slapped him," Issei moaned, burying his face in his knees again.

"Why? I think he had it coming, from what you just said," Sakura replied, confused.

"No, I mean, I can't believe I _slapped_ him!" Issei clarified. "I proved his point for him!" Seeing her continued blank look, he shook his head. "Look, Sakura. If a guy gets angry with another guy, he punches him. _Women_ are the ones who slap people when they're pissed off."

"Oh." Sakura considered that for a moment, then giggled. "You're right, actually."

"It's not funny," he complained. "It's not exactly the best response I could have picked to an accusation that I was behaving like a girl!"

"So you've found another thing where you react in a feminine way instead of a masculine one," she countered. "What's one more?"

He glared at her, and she flushed slightly. "That... didn't come out quite like I meant it to," she said hastily. She raised one hand and stroked it through his hair. It was probably supposed to be a comforting gesture, but he tensed, remembering the way Kanai's hand had felt gripping him by the hair to pull his head back. "You feel a little better now?"

"A little," he agreed warily. "This isn't all going to go away after a few minutes of comforting words, Sakura."

"I know that," she said hastily. "But you were scaring me for a few minutes there, Issei. Given the way everyone was reacting to what you were projecting, I was half afraid you'd either go murderous or suicidal on me."

"I don't think I'd ever be able to kill someone," he replied. "The emotional backlash would kill _me_ , too. Suicidal... maybe. Especially if I was drawing from someone else who was that depressed. If you hadn't taken me in the night my family threw me out, after Jinpachi's rejection... I might have done it then," he admitted.

She hugged him close again. "Well, don't," she said firmly. "I'd have to chase you to hell to kick your ass for it. It'd kill me to lose you, you know that, right? Not just for this life, but for all our lives to come, too."

"I know," he said, almost too soft for her to hear. "I won't, I promise."

"Good." Happy with the promise, she turned to kiss him lightly. He drew back so quickly that he smacked his head against the wall hard enough to see stars briefly.

"Issei?" When he could focus again, he saw her looking at him with wide, concerned eyes. "What is it? You haven't minded me touching your skin for the last half hour, why'd you pull away just now?"

He closed his eyes, trying to figure out how you explained the revulsion all touch evoked after a near rape, to someone who'd never experienced anything like that in _any_ of her lives that he knew about.

Briefly he tried to force himself back into the proper mindset, reminding himself that this was _Sakura_ , who wouldn't hurt him if her life depended on it. He cast about for something to block the memory of the feel of Kanai... and came up with an image of Jinpachi, as he had looked at the moment when he'd seen Issei standing in the hallway next to Sakura.

That was when he was forced to admit defeat to himself. "I can't," he said, his voice broken. "Sakura, I can't do this. It's not working, and after today..." he shuddered.

"What?" she asked, subdued. "What happened, Issei?"

"You don't understand what it's like for an empath, Sakura," he whispered, fighting the memory again. "You know I can't block someone out when they're in that kind of close contact with me. Think about that would mean, in terms of being raped."

"You... oh, gods." She sounded sick. "You were forced to feel what they were feeling?"

He nodded. "They didn't get far enough to overwhelm me completely; but the experience has brought a lot of Enju's darker memories to the surface. Empaths were a favoured target for rape, on the homeworld. Because once you got close, they stopped struggling, and even started to enjoy themselves. They couldn't help it."

"Enju went through that?" Sakura said, horrified. "I... I knew she'd been badly mistreated as a child, but..."

"She never talked about it. Not even to Gyokuran or Shusuran," Issei said. "I don't think I'd have ever remembered it, except for what happened today." He finally turned to look at her, his grey eyes haunted. "Sakura... my subconscious is refusing to distinguish between that, and what I was trying to do by feeding off your desire for me. I'm reacting the same way to that now as I was to the bullies whose minds I blew out. And I'm afraid I might do the same thing to you, if I push myself too hard."

"No." Sakura sounded like she was torn between despair and a kind of hysterical humour. "No, damn it, it's not fair! Why did this have to happen _now_ , damn it? I was just starting to believe this would really work!"

He could feel the tears hovering just under the surface, her sorrow catching at him and making him feel even guiltier than he already did. "I'm sorry," he whispered, hanging his head low. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you."

She stood with a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. "I know. We both knew from the start that this might not work. I... I'm not blaming you, but... I think maybe I ought to go to my own room before I start spilling over onto you and trigger you into projecting again," she babbled as she fled for the door.

He watched her go, peering up through the dark fall of his bangs. If she thought being on the other side of the hall was far enough for him to keep from feeling her heart break along side her, she was very much wrong. He didn't need to be able to see her fling herself onto her bed or hear her sobbing to feel the sharp pain that resonated through her.

He'd offered her everything she'd ever wanted, then taken it away again. And it wasn't his fault, damn it! He didn't want to feel this way, he didn't want to associate what they did together with what those bastards had done to him.

 _Sarjareem, it's not fair! I know life isn't fair, I know that better than anyone, but this is going too far!_ he railed at their goddess, burying his face in his knees again and feeling his body shake with Sakura's sobs. _Can't you allow any of us to be happy? Just for a little while, please?_


	13. Chapter 13

Issei slid into his seat in the psychology class just moments before the bell rang. Sakura was already there, in the desk beside him; he'd timed his entry so that they wouldn't be forced to awkwardly ignore each other, or worse, try to make conversation while waiting for class to start.

The last few weeks had been very rough between the two of them. The easy comfortableness they'd always had with each other had vanished, as if it had never been. For the most part they'd been staying away from each other, and neither had entered the other's bedroom for any reason since the day of the fight at school. Issei could sense Sakura's heartbreak, and it only made his own that much worse. He felt guilty for putting her through the whole ordeal; what had seemed like such a good idea at the time seemed like sheer idiocy with the perfect vision of hindsight.

They still had all their classes together, and they couldn't change their seating arrangements so late in the year, so they'd begun this little dance of avoidance. Issei left for school in the mornings a good half hour before Sakura was even awake, now that he no longer tried to chivvy her out of bed. One or both of them were always careful to arrive for class at the last possible second, and they ate lunch across the room from each other. Thus far neither of them had figured out a good reason to avoid walking home together; that trip was always silent and strained at best.

It was killing him... he missed his easy friendship with Sakura, missed feeling like he could tell her anything, and know she would understand. Having lost her and Jinpachi at nearly the same moment, he felt lost and adrift, without anyone to anchor him. He'd never been alone like this, in all the time he could remember; before he'd met Sakura in this life, he'd always had Jinpachi.

He'd managed to keep himself distracted so far by throwing all his time and energy into studying. As a result, as the year drew to a close, he actually had the grades he'd need to get one of those scholarships, and a good chance of scoring well on the entrance exams, too. It was the one thing he could comfort himself with. Maybe at university, he'd finally be able to escape the past that haunted him, and the complications it continually brought into his current life.

Once they'd all bowed to the teacher and taken their seats again, Issei wrenched his attention back to the class. He actually really enjoyed this class; it was one of his electives, and the teacher, Sakamoto Rei, had done her masters and doctorate degrees in psychology in the United States. She was amazingly forward thinking and progressive, and he loved studying under her.

This being Saturday, it was a short class, and their last class for the day. The students were all restless; with the entrance exams just a week and a half away, nobody was concentrating well on their classes, even though they needed to be paying attention now more than ever.

Perhaps Sakamoto-sensei sensed that, for she chose to perch on the front of her desk, rather than taking a seat behind it. "All right, everyone, settle down," she ordered, and the students slowly stopped fidgeting and turned to her. "I know you're all anxious to be out of here, so I promise to try to make this class as painless as possible. You've all been such good students this year, that we've actually managed to finish the government approved curriculum ahead of time."

Issei blinked at that, and there were murmurs of astonishment from the other students. You often heard of classes falling behind the curriculum, if they were particularly ill behaved or slow. Issei didn't think he'd heard anything about a class finishing early, however. He wasn't sure what that would mean in terms of the remaining class days; would they simply be free days? Or did it mean Sakamoto-sensei would be able to teach anything she liked?

The latter, apparently, as she pulled a sheaf of papers from her back. Seeing the familiar answer forms of a multiple-choice test, the students groaned, but the teacher kept smiling.

"No, this isn't a pop quiz, or anything like that," she assured them. "This is the introduction to our last unit of study. I want you all to fill out these questionnaires, and be as honest as you can. There are no 'right' or 'wrong' answers; there is only the answer that is truest to your sense of self. Your results will not count for or against your grade in any way, and they are only as accurate as the data you put into them."

"So you're psychoanalyzing us, then?" someone asked from the back of the class. "Going to tell us whether we're chronic overachievers, or lazy, or ambitious, or whatever?"

"Something like that," Sakamoto-sensei answered placidly, as half the students tittered. "When you're done, I want you to turn over your paper. When everyone's paper is turned over, I'll be handing out the answer key. I will never see these papers. Neither will anyone else, unless you so choose. At the moment, you may be surprised or even confused by what your answers tell you, but by the end of the unit, everything should make a little better sense to you."

Issei's curiosity was well and truly piqued at this point. He found psychology a fascinating subject, and had toyed with the idea of majoring in it. The only problem was the knowledge that it might be difficult to find a related job after he was done school. The smart thing to do would be to major in business, but he'd never really had the interest in economics necessary for something like that.

She passed out the forms, and he flipped his over, studying the questions. Some of it was the sort of things you would find on standardized IQ tests; spatial relations, math problems, word problems. There were questions about associations; given x and y, which is the relationship between the words most similar to, among the follow list? Or, which of these best describes your first thought upon hearing x word? There were questions about his learning style, whether he learned better reading, hearing an explanation, or doing it himself. Overall, he wasn't entirely certain just _what_ the test was supposed to show.

He gave up on trying to figure out the meaning of the quiz, and simply started filling in his answers. Occasionally he had to argue with himself briefly over a question to determine if the answer he'd just put down was the truth, or only what he _wished_ the truth was, but for the most part he thought he'd managed to be honest.

When he flipped his page over, he leaned back and stretched, glancing around to see who else was finished. Sakura was still working, but he could see that she was at the bottom of her page. Most of the rest of the class was done; either they hadn't really bothered to pay attention to the questions, since it wasn't going to count for their grades, or they hadn't bothered to argue with themselves over any of the answers as Issei had. Most likely it was a combination of both.

It was about ten minutes until the last person flipped their page over. Sakamoto-sensei started moving through the rows again, handing out the answer key and another page of what looked like explanation. "You're free to go for the day," she told them, and immediately had to raise her voice over the sound of a dozen students scrambling for books and bags. "I'd recommend reading the results in private, and then deciding if you want to share with your friends. Just a warning that if I catch or hear about _anyone_ pressuring someone to reveal their results, it'll mean a drop of ten percent in your final grade."

Ignoring the protests of 'you can't do that!' - she could, if she chose, do exactly that, and they all knew it - Sakamoto-sensei returned to her desk and started gathering up her own things. Now doubly curious, Issei slipped his books into his bag, grabbed his answer sheet and quiz, and turned towards Sakura.

She was already packed, waiting for him. She raised an eyebrow at him as they walked out of the classroom. "So, what do you think it was for?" she asked, breaking their several-week tradition of not speaking to each other on the way home.

"I have no idea," Issei admitted honestly. "I'm curious to get a look at this answer sheet."

"Yeah, me too," she agreed, and they fell awkwardly silent once more. Issei cursed his inability to say anything to a girl he'd once been able to say _everything_ to, and wondered at the cruelty of the world that just a few short hours could so completely change two lives forever.

By tacit agreement, they waited until they were out of the school and heading towards home before they both pulled out their answer sheets. It was as good a way as any other to ignore each other without being blatant about it, Issei decided.

Reading over the explanation sheet, Issei's eyes widened. The questionnaire had been based on multiple studies done by the Americans on something called 'gender identity'. The theory was that, on average, males tended to react and think in certain ways that were different from the way females thought and reacted. And, supposedly, such things were not necessarily determined by genetics, or upbringing.

He stopped short, staring at the sheet, feeling his stomach try to crawl up his throat. _This has to be some sort of cosmic joke,_ he thought, disbelieving. _Of all the possible topics... this..._

"Issei? Are you okay?" He looked to see that Sakura had stopped walking a couple feet ahead of him, and was looking back at him now in concern.

He gave her a twisted smile. "Have you gotten to the part where it explains just what this test is _for_?"

"No..." She flipped from the answer key to the explanation sheet, and skimmed it quickly. He was a bit gratified to see that she turned almost as pale as he probably was. "Oh, dear Sarjareem. _Are_ you okay?"

"We'll find out in a few minutes," Issei muttered, flipping to the answer key and starting to check his answers. The choices were rated on a scale of one to five, with five being feminine, one being masculine, and three being androgynous. Depending on which answer he chose, he added more points to his total, then checked his total score to see where he placed on the overall scale.

Halfway through the answer key, he knew he didn't even need to finish. He did anyway, out of simple morbid curiosity. Then he stood staring at the sheet for a long moment, going over and over the answers to see if there were any that he'd been uncertain about at the time, that he might be able to change now. The only things he'd hesitated over were the questions where he'd forced himself to be more truthful; unless he decided to deliberately lie to himself, he couldn't change his score.

"Issei?" Sakura asked after he'd just stood there with his eyes closed for a long moment. "How bad is it?"

He opened his eyes and just looked at her. After a moment she sighed, and looked sympathetic. "That bad, huh?"

He looked back at his results. On the final scale, he rated ninety-one percent feminine. Ninety-one percent! "I'm kidding myself, aren't I?" he asked, softly.

"Kidding yourself? About what?" She moved closer, her eyes concerned, but made no move to take the paper or look at it. He was grateful for that much, at least.

"Thinking that I can somehow separate myself from Enju's influence," he clarified, fisting his hand around the papers. "That if I just try hard enough, long enough, I can shove her away in a box somewhere and be nothing more than an ordinary teenaged male."

Sakura's eyes were wide and soft as she looked at him. In the face of his obvious pain, she'd momentarily set aside her own issues with him. She reached out to touch his arm. "I'm sure a lot of people in the class weren't nearly where they expected to be on the scale, Issei. Hell, I scored on the feminine side of androgynous, and nobody's ever looked twice at me."

"Ninety. One." He bit the words off as if they left a bad taste in his mouth. Her shocked look was no more than he'd expected. "I doubt many of the girls in the class scored that high."

He started walking again, at a quick, choppy pace. He shoved the papers, explanation sheet and all, into the first garbage can he came to, but it wasn't nearly so easy to leave behind the confusion and turmoil they'd awakened inside him. Belatedly she ran to catch up, and fell in at his side.

"Issei?" she finally ventured to ask. He slanted a glance at her, and she looked back at him levelly. "Why don't you talk to Sakamoto-sensei? She's a professional psychologist, she'd probably have some advice about what you could do to help yourself."

Issei's glance became scornful. "Sakura, _anyone_ from our class who goes to talk to her, for any reason, in the next week or so is going to be assumed to have gotten an unusual score on this damn test," he pointed out. "The whole class will be watching on Monday to see who seems upset or uncomfortable, I guarantee it."

"Damn, you're right," Sakura admitted in defeat. "I didn't think of that. Well, you've lived with it this long, I guess you could wait a couple weeks and talk to her just before we leave school, maybe?"

"Just forget about it, Sakura," Issei replied, his tone a bit sharper than he'd intended. This was still a very touchy subject for him, and he was having enough trouble probing at the open wound the test results had created, without her rubbing salt over it. "What would I tell her, anyway? 'By the way, I'm a reincarnated female alien, who screwed up and asked her goddess to reincarnate her as a male'? No, thank you."

She sighed, and raked her hair out of her eyes. "I doubt you'd need to go into that much detail, Issei..." He just gave her another look, and she dropped the subject. "All right, fine. C'mon, we'd better hurry or we're going to be late for dinner, we've been standing around out here so long!"

Neither of them said any more about the subject that night, though it had at least served the purpose of breaking the ice between them a bit. They actually spent an hour studying out in the living room together after dinner, rather than retreating to their own rooms as they had been doing.

Issei found he was utterly unable to concentrate on anything, however. The spectre of the questionnaire and the implications of its results kept rising up to haunt him. He found himself constantly second-guessing his own thought processes, trying to catch himself 'thinking like a girl', and attempting to 'think like a boy' instead. Needless to say, he was failing miserably.

He spent most of the weekend feeling like there was a war being waged in his own mind and not even sure which side he was supposed to be on. Part of him wanted to just take this whole incident as evidence that he was never going to free himself of Enju, so he might as well just give in and revel in it. The rest of him, the part that had been forced to listen to endless lectures by his parents and bullying by other children on the subject of his 'effeminate' behaviour, was appalled by the very thought.

As a result, his sleep was troubled and he was up even earlier than usual on Monday morning. He went about his morning routine on autopilot, and when he was ready to go to school, he discovered that it was still early enough that not even Sakura's father had risen for work yet. Sighing, he decided to go ahead and go to school anyway. He could brood there just as well as here, and at least there wouldn't be anyone there at this time of morning for his empathy to pick up on.

The sun was just cresting the horizon as he left the house, and the walk to school was peaceful and calm, actually soothing his jumbled spirit somewhat. The birdsong was pleasant, and by the time he walked into the school, he was actually able to draw a breath without feeling like the weight of the world was pressing down on him.

He changed his shoes quickly and headed up towards his classroom, feeling oddly out of place in the echoingly empty hallways. His every footstep seemed to bounce off the walls and return to him, until he could hear himself coming from every direction. To someone else it might have sounded like there were many other people following them, but for him, his inability to sense anyone's presence with his empathy meant he knew he was alone.

Except... there was at least one other person, somewhere on this floor near here. Curious, Issei detoured down into the science wing, following the sense of 'presence' that told him he wasn't alone after all. It was only one single person, and they weren't feeling anything particularly strongly. As he neared them, he could feel a sort of muffled enjoyment; of the first coffee of the day, or something similar, he guessed.

He stopped outside the door where the feeling was strongest, and looked up to see that he'd arrived outside Sakamoto-sensei's office. The door was cracked partially open, and through it he could see her look up and smile at him.

"Don't be shy, come in," she invited, leaning back in her chair. "Didn't expect to see someone else who was as much of an early riser as I am."

For a moment Issei was tempted to turn tail and run. Hadn't he just reminded Sakura of what people would think of anyone visiting Sakamoto-sensei's office today? The fact that what they would assume of him was actually _true_ only made it all the more imperative for him to avoid the rumours.

Still, Sakamoto-sensei was right in saying that there wasn't likely to be anyone else at the school for a good long while yet. He was probably safe to at least come in and wish her good morning. He pushed the door open a little further, stepped inside and bowed slightly. "Good morning, Sensei," he said, a little stiffly.

"Issei-kun! Good morning," she replied, her smile widening. "Come in, have a seat. Would you like some coffee or tea?"

He'd intended to refuse, make up some fictitious project that he'd come early to work on, and excuse himself politely. Instead he found himself walking forwards, and accepting a cup of tea from the teacher's hands. "Thank you," he murmured, sitting in one of the chairs and just staring at the tea.

"You seem troubled, Issei-kun," she commented when he hadn't said anything or looked up after a few minutes. "Is it something I could help with, maybe?"

He finally raised his head and gave her a wry smile. "Is it that obvious?" he asked. She just tilted her head at him, and he sighed, slumping back into the chair. "It's... the questionnaire you gave us yesterday," he admitted reluctantly.

"Ah." Just that one single word, and it held no overtones of judgement or bias, but it still told Issei that she'd known all along exactly what had brought him to school so early in the morning. "Did your score surprise you, then? I won't ask if you understood the implications behind the test, you're one of my best students, and I'm quite certain you grasped the concept immediately."

He gave a slightly bitter laugh. "Surprise me? No, not really. It was a bit of a shock, but not really a surprise, if that makes any sense." He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. "I scored a ninety-one."

She took a sip of her coffee, waiting for him to open his eyes again before she spoke. Her voice was neutral, neither positive nor negative, just a soothing level tone. "And how did that make you feel, other than shocked but not surprised?"

"Frustrated," he replied immediately, gritting his teeth against the emotions that threatened to well up inside him again. The last thing he needed was to lose control and let his emotions spill over onto her. "I've spent so long trying to... to separate myself from this..." he remembered at the last moment not to mention Enju or his past life. "This emotional morass I always seem to find myself in. I thought I was doing better, but that test just tells me I was only fooling myself."

"What sort of things are you trying to separate yourself from?" she asked, her expression calm and eyes sympathetic. If she felt anything emotional at all in response to his outburst, she was very good at hiding it, even from an empath.

"From the fact that I have a female soul trapped in a male body," he whispered, fighting to keep his own anguish out of his voice. Damn it, he was _not_ going to break down in public, in front of a teacher, no less! "I thought if I could just... try hard enough, force myself to do the things I was expected to, to want the things I was 'supposed' to want, then I could distance myself from her enough to at least be able to live out the rest of this life in something other than utter misery!"

She let him fight for control without saying anything. When he finally was able to breathe without it turning into a shuddering almost-sob, she spoke again. "I take it things didn't work out as you'd planned?"

"Well, I'd say this test of yours is proof enough of that," Issei replied, his tone bitter again. "Years of effort, and if I've managed to change anything, it's to drop myself from a hundred percent to ninety-one percent."

"How does that make you feel?" she asked, her eyes intent on his face. "You said you were frustrated. Have you ever had thoughts of ending your life to escape it?"

"Of committing suicide, you mean?" He shook his head. "I considered it semi-seriously once, just after my father had disowned me for being gay, and my best friend had abandoned me. I was hysterical, in a lot of pain from the beating my father gave me, and not really thinking rationally. I don't think I'd ever really go through with something like that." He closed his eyes again. "I... believe in reincarnation. And someone who commits suicide is taken out of the cycle, never to live again. My life would have to be a lot worse than it is now before I'd consider that to be a preferable alternative."

"I'm very glad to hear you say that," she said, nodding. She relaxed a bit, though he hadn't actually realized she was tense until she _did_ relax. "Issei-kun, I'm going to ask you a couple of questions that will seem somewhat odd, and probably very pointless. I'd like you to answer them to the best of your ability anyway, all right?"

At his hesitant nod, she continued, "If you could go back in time and choose which sex you would be born, which would you choose? Male, or female?"

"Female," came his instant reply. He didn't even have to think about it. He'd long since acknowledged that it had been a horrible mistake to ask Sarjareem to incarnate him as a male this time around, and he was bound and determined never to make that particular mistake again. If he could go back and do it again? He'd choose to be female in a heartbeat. If he'd been a woman, then maybe, once Jinpachi finally got over Alice, he'd have had a chance with his best friend. They'd all died so young the last time around that Gyokuran had never had an opportunity to really see past Mokuren, and that had been Enju's downfall.

"Fair enough. You seem very certain of that," she observed. He just looked back at her, feeling as if he should be ashamed of his answer, but unable to dredge up the appropriate emotion. It was the truth, and there was nothing he could do about it. "Next question; if you could go back and change yourself so that you'd be happy as a male, would you do that?"

"If I could..." Issei trailed off, startled. His first thought was to say 'yes, of course', but something deep in his gut kept him from answering so quickly.

Wasn't that exactly what he'd prayed to Sarjareem for, though, every night when he lay in bed? For her to fix things, to make him happy, to make him able to bear this life that he'd chosen for himself? If he could change himself to make himself happy as a male, wouldn't he jump at the chance?

He thought of his score on the test, and suddenly understood what his answer had to be. "No," he said slowly. "I should say yes, but when you put it that way, I have to say no. To make myself happy as a male... I'd have to change so _much_ of myself, that my soul would hardly be recognizable any more. I wouldn't be _me_ , I'd be someone else. That's not what I want. I just want to be happy, as I am."

"Issei-kun, what you're experiencing is something called 'gender dysphoria'," she told him frankly. "That's basically a fancy way of saying that you are unhappy with the gender you were born with, which I'm sure you didn't need me to tell you. But I'm going to tell you right now; whatever anyone else may tell you, it is _not_ an insanity. There is nothing wrong with your mind, and from what you're telling me and your score on the test, I can tell you that it's unlikely that any amount of therapy will ever orient you to your genetic gender."

"So you're saying I'm trapped this way," he concluded, his voice pained. Not that it was anything he hadn't already known, but it still hurt to hear it confirmed by a professional. He was doomed to live out the rest of this life in the same misery he was floundering in now.

Her answer, therefore, surprised him considerably. "Only if you choose to be," she said. "I'm not saying it would be easy for you to overcome this and express yourself as you wish you could. On the contrary; you've got a very difficult road to walk, regardless of what you chose to do with yourself."

She leaned forward and wrote quickly on a piece of notepaper, then tore it off, folded it in half, and handed it to him. "I've written down some American websites there that I think you'll find useful to you. Also, the name of an American friend of mine who is here in Japan. She's a singer, and she gives voice lessons; she's trained more than one male to be able to pass his voice perfectly as a female. She's done quite a lot of work training voice actors on television, in fact."

He stared at the paper, then at her, a little bewildered. She smiled at him. "I'm not your therapist, Issei-kun, only your teacher. I admit you're one of the ones I expected to have turn up in my office at some point during this unit; I'm glad I was able to talk to you so early, and for such a long time. But if you don't leave soon, someone is going to see you coming out of my office, and we both know what that means."

Glancing at the clock, he realized she was right - it was late enough that there would be other students around, and in fact he could sense several of them not far from her office. He stood hastily, tucking the paper into his bag and setting the teacup down on her desk. "Thank you," he said, almost shyly. "You've... given me some things to think about, if nothing else."

She laughed. "Good. That's what I'm here for. Making my students think is how I know I'm doing my job as a teacher properly. Now, quickly, get out of here, before you're seen."

She shooed him out the door, and he slipped out when he was certain nobody was close enough to see where he'd come from. He made his way to his homeroom with plenty of time to spare, thoughts and emotions boiling over in his mind. Something to think about, indeed.


	14. Chapter 14

Issei tested the temperature of the water from the shower with his hand, standing shivering in the cold bathroom until it was finally warm enough for him to get in. He sighed with pleasure as the hot streams of water struck his body; he'd turned it up as high as he could stand it, and he intended to stay in here until the hot water ran out.

For once, there was no reason why he shouldn't. It was Sunday afternoon, so he didn't have school to worry about. He'd finished the last of the dreaded university entrance exams the day before, so he didn't even have to feel guilty about not studying. And best of all, he was completely alone in the house. Sakura had gone over to spend time with some of her friends, as a sort of continuation of the end-of-exams celebration that had been held the night before. Her parents were away as they so often were on the weekends.

He'd been invited to the after-the-party party, of course, but he'd turned the invitation down. For one thing, it would have been just him, Sakura, and a half dozen of her female friends. He'd spent time with that group before and enjoyed himself, but given that more than half of them had been in his psychology class, he didn't really want to open himself up to the amateur psychoanalyzing that was certain to start once they realized the implications of the fact that he _did_ enjoy himself so much with them.

There was also the matter of the tension between him and Sakura, but at least things had started to improve in that area. The ice that had been broken the day of that fateful psych class had remained unfrozen, and more thawed every day. Issei knew it would be a long time, if ever, before they were comfortable with the sort of easy touching they'd once enjoyed with each other, but at least he now believed the friendship would be salvaged, not much the worse for wear.

Issei reached up to lather the shampoo into his hair, and grimaced slightly at the feel of the strands running through his fingers. It was getting long; he should have gotten it cut quite a while ago. He kept putting it off, however; in fact, since the day he'd let Sakura put that damn makeup on him, he'd had to fight with himself over every haircut. He kept leaving it until it was long enough that he either had to give in and commit to growing it out, and look silly until it reached a decent length, or go out and get it cut. It was reaching that stage again, and the internal argument wasn't going any better this time around, either.

In fact, if anything, it was worse. He'd gone to several of the websites Sakamoto-sensei had recommended to him, and he'd discovered that he was far from being alone in his dilemma. In fact, he had to admire the courage of the other people whose stories he'd read; he at least knew for a fact that he was indeed a female soul who'd mistakenly reincarnated herself as a male. They had no such assurances, only a driving feeling that they were trapped in their own bodies.

And it was easy enough to feel sorry for himself by saying that they were all in America, which was a much more open and tolerant country than Japan, but the truth was, in some of the areas these people had grown up, it looked like people were _less_ tolerant than they were here in Tokyo.

The fact was, all the excuses in the world couldn't change the fact that what was really driving Issei was fear. He knew what he wanted; his conversation with Sakamoto-sensei had made it clear to him, and reading the stories of others like him who'd dared to live their lives the way they wanted to only crystallized the desire into a _need_.

It wasn't so much the mechanics of his body that he hated. Physically, he didn't mind being male so much; in fact, it had a few distinct advantages over being female. He was perhaps in a unique position to be able to compare the full range of both experiences with first hand knowledge.

The part that drove him nearly mad was the expectations that were placed on him, because he had this type of body instead of the other. Males were expected to act, speak, even think in certain ways, and Issei didn't fit any of them. In his mind and heart he was still a woman, and the more he struggled to hide that, the more stifled and despairing he felt.

What he wanted more than anything was to be free to just be himself, to act the way he wanted, to dress the way he wanted, without having to worry about having the shit beaten out of him in response. He wanted to wear the kind of beautiful clothes Sakura took for granted; he wanted to have guys looking at him appreciatively; he wanted to have people call him 'pretty' without meaning it as an insult. But society said males couldn't be what he was, and so he was trapped squarely between two worlds.

It was a catch-22 situation, with no way out. At least, not as long as he let the fear control him. The question was, was he strong enough to move past it?

Stepping back under the spray to rinse his hair off, he stood there for a moment, letting the water drag his hair down into his face. It really was getting long, probably the longest he'd ever had it in this body. He pushed the line a little further each time he fought with himself over the issue; perhaps he was subconsciously hoping to eventually reach a point where by the time he'd convinced himself to cut it, it was long enough to look good.

But in the meantime, he was only torturing himself. Running his hands through it again, Issei took a deep breath, and forced himself to make a conscious decision. He wasn't going to cut it, this time. He was letting it grow out, to shoulder length at least.

When he let the breath out, a small portion of the weight that always hung over his soul seemed to leave with it. He laughed, the sound shaky as it bounced off the tile walls. Well, he'd taken the first step. Whether or not he'd keep the promise to himself was another matter. It was all well and good to decide to be bold when he was here, alone - doing so in public was a whole different issue.

Somehow, he had to find the courage to live his life the way _he_ wanted to, rather than pandering to everyone else's notions of what he _should_ be. It would be the hardest thing he'd ever done in his life; like most empaths, Issei was hyper-aware of what other people thought of him, and he tended to do his best to minimize any negative feelings towards him, purely out of self defence. But if he could pull it off, the reward of feeling free for perhaps the first time in this life would be more than worth the risks.

He reached for the soap to wash himself with, and paused when his gaze landed on the contents of the shelf below the soap. It was a woman's razor and shaving gel, presumably belonging to either Sakura or her mother. He'd seen it before, of course; it was just always there, like the rest of the soaps and shampoos, and it was just sort of part of the 'scenery' of the bathroom. With the oddly reckless feeling that was settling over him now that he'd taken a step in a dangerous direction, however, Issei found himself contemplating things he really shouldn't have been thinking about.

Then he caught himself. Why shouldn't he think about it? If he was serious about 'living his life the way he wanted and to hell with what anyone else thought', then what reason did he have to chide himself for wanting to borrow the thing and make his legs as smooth as Sakura's always were?

No reason, except the fear that had been with him so long that the response of crushing 'inappropriate' thoughts had become a reflex. If Issei could have seen the rather wild smile that crossed his face as he reached for the razor, he might have had second thoughts about what he was getting into. As it was, he just let the rush of emotions carry him along, goading him into acting on the impulses he'd spent so many years ignoring.

By the time the water began to run cold and he was forced to get out of the shower, Issei's limbs were as smooth as he could make them. He'd picked up a couple of small nicks; he was lucky enough to have inherited the stereotypical Japanese lack of body and facial hair, which meant he'd never actually used a razor before in any context. But overall he thought he'd done a fairly decent job.

Towelling off was a unique experience; he discovered quickly that his legs were now very sensitive to touch and texture. He knew it was a small step in the grand scheme of things, but there was a sort of heady thrill running through Issei's system at the knowledge that he'd just done something most people would condemn him for. Growing his hair out was one thing; there were plenty of guys who had long hair these days, and nobody could argue that Issei's features weren't suited to it. But people looked askance at guys who shaved their legs, even the ones who had legitimate reasons to do so.

Humming softly to himself, feeling oddly content, Issei wrapped the towel around his waist and tied it at one side. He brushed his hair out quickly before leaving the bathroom, steam billowing out into the hallway with him when he opened the door.

He walked back to his room, most of his attention focused on the way his legs felt when they brushed by each other. He suspected the enhanced sensitivity would fade fairly quickly, so he wanted to enjoy it while he could.

His hand touched the knob of his bedroom door, and he found himself hesitating. Glancing over his shoulder at Sakura's door, he bit his lip and sighed. Part of him wished he dared to go raid her closet and finish what he'd started. Unfortunately Sakura could come home at any moment, and he wasn't nearly ready to be caught at the game he was playing.

In all honesty, despite his newfound resolution, he wasn't entirely certain _he_ was ready to see himself in a skirt or some other undeniably feminine article of clothing. He had a feeling he was going to have to work his up to this with small steps. There was such a thing as going overboard.

Still, it was disappointing. He hated not finishing what he started, and this felt distressingly like chickening out again. Well, he'd already taken a couple of big steps today; he'd just have to be satisfied with that.

It wasn't until he was in his room and heading for his dresser that it occurred to him that there was at least one piece of feminine clothing he could wear without fear of it being revealed, if he was careful. He blushed hotly at the thought, and knew that this _was_ something he shouldn't be thinking about. Sakura would undoubtedly not mind him borrowing her clothing; she'd given it to him herself often enough. But that was outerwear, not something intimate. He doubted she'd be so forgiving if she caught him raiding her panty drawer instead of her closet.

He stood in the middle of the room, torn between his modesty, his principles, and the reckless boldness that had possessed him since he'd made the decision not to cut his hair.

In the end, boldness won out. Heart pounding, Issei went across the hall and eased Sakura's door open with hands that shook with the force of the conflicting emotions inside him. He couldn't believe he was actually doing this. He couldn't believe he was even _thinking_ about this!

Her room hadn't changed since the last time he'd been in it. There were clothes scattered across the bed and makeup on the vanity, most likely from her attempts to choose an outfit for today's party. He moved forward, doing his best to walk silently even though he knew there was nobody in the house to hear him.

It wasn't hard to find the dresser drawer that contained her lingerie. Issei was a little bewildered at the sheer variety of colours, fabrics, and types of the articles inside the drawer. Hesitantly he reached inside and fished around at the very back, where the seldom used things ended up. If he took something from off the top she'd almost certainly notice that it was missing.

He came up with a pair of white panties that differed from male briefs primarily in the softness of the material, and the fact that the front was all one piece. The only truly feminine touches were a bit of lace at the legs and waist, and a tiny white silk bow on the waistband at the front.

He closed the drawer and all but fled the room with his prize, slamming his own door shut behind him and leaning against it, trying to calm his racing heartbeat. If his pulse got any faster or harder, he thought his heart might burst right out of him. He started laughing at himself, and then he couldn't stop; he wound up sitting on the floor with his back to the door, laughing himself almost sick. It wasn't hysterical laughter so much as a release of years worth of tension. This was going to be one of those things he would look back on, twenty years from now, and wonder what the _hell_ he'd been thinking.

Ditching the towel, he dug through his clothes until he came up with simple black jeans and a black t-shirt. He pulled the panties on, and was both surprised and grateful that they seemed to fit him well enough. Once he'd pulled the jeans over them and tucked the t-shirt in, he stood in front of the mirror and examined himself.

There was literally no way to tell what he'd been up to that day. The clothes covered everything, but Issei knew the truth, and it made him feel light-headed and oddly liberated. Well, if he was doomed to be a freak, he supposed he might as well revel in it.

Laughing again, he grabbed the towel and padded back down the hall to the bathroom, his spirits rising with each step. The denim of the jeans brushed against the still sensitive skin of his legs with each step, the sensation a subtle reinforcement of the unusual lightness of spirit that had come over him.

He hung the towel up and turned to go, but a scattering of makeup containers on the counter caught his eye. He blinked at them, and frowned. They were mostly the sort of cheap lip-gloss you could find in any drugstore, which meant they were almost certainly Sakura's. Why had she left them out here, rather than in her room?

Picking one up, he studied it. It was just a little round container with a lid that screwed off, half full of translucent pink gel. Unable to resist, he used a finger to apply some to his own lips, and glanced at the mirror.

The gel was clear, and the colour was hardly different from his natural lip colour. The overall effect was just to make his lips shiny, as if they were wet. He smiled, then laughed when he saw the way his eyes were glittering in the mirror. He was sure the 'thrill of the forbidden' aspect of all of this would wear off eventually if he really did follow his plan, but for the moment he simply enjoyed it.

He pocketed the container, figuring Sakura wasn't likely to miss just one, and sauntered out to the living room. Sprawling over one of the couches, he turned the TV on and flipped through the channels until he found a rerun for one of the J-Dramas he and Sakura followed. She'd be home soon, but it would be simple enough to lick the gloss off, and then she'd never know what he'd been doing with his day. And in the meantime, he got to luxuriate in the feeling that he'd taken the first steps towards realizing his freedom from the misery that had hounded him since he'd first realized the implications of his dreams of Enju's life.


	15. Chapter 15

The first knock on his bedroom door was lost in the music playing on the headphones Issei had on. He was sprawled over his futon, humming along to the music, just enjoying the rare feeling of being home with nothing to do in the middle of a Monday morning. School was over; he'd graduated with top honours. The results for the university entrance exams would be posted soon, but he wasn't letting himself think about that. If he did, he'd be tied up in knots.

A spike of impatience directed straight at him penetrated his shields, making him blink and look up from the magazine he was reading. It was a fashion magazine, snitched from Sakura's room - he still felt guilty about borrowing her things, though he was always careful to return anything that might be missed. If he'd had any money he'd have bought his own clothes, makeup and books, but for now he had no choice but to borrow them.

He pulled his headphones off, and that allowed him to hear the second knock on the door. Hastily he shoved the magazine under his pillow and scrubbed his lips with his hand to get rid of the lip-gloss he'd put on earlier. He was edging closer and closer to confessing his actions to Sakura, but he wanted to tell her himself, at the right time, not have her walk in and catch him wearing her makeup.

A quick glance in the mirror to make sure there was nothing to give him away, and then he called, "Come in!" as he sat up on the futon.

Sakura opened the door and poked her head in, grinning at him. "Took you long enough," she chided. "How loud do you play that music, anyway?"

"Loud enough to block out any other sounds, that being the point," Issei replied dryly. "You don't have to stand in the doorway, you can come in, you know."

She slipped inside, leaving the door ajar, and he smiled at her. Things were definitely improving between them; this was the first time she'd come into his room since the day he'd broken it off with her. He no longer sensed the sort of overwhelming negative emotions that had gripped her in the first few weeks whenever she was around him, either. She was, slowly, getting over him. Now if only he could do the same thing with Jinpachi.

"What's up?" he asked her, curious. "I thought you were going out today?"

She waved her cell phone at him, grinning. "Natsumi just called," she told him, her eyes sparkling. "She was on a bus that was going by Toudai, and she saw the message boards. The universities have posted the exam results!"

"What? Already?" Issei scrambled to his feet, eyes wide and heart pounding. So much for the calm, relaxed feeling he'd been enjoying; suddenly he was far too aware that his entire future rested on exactly where his examination number was written among the hundreds of other similar numbers on those boards. He was certain he'd passed, there was no question of that. What mattered now was _how_ high he'd scored. If it wasn't high enough to get him a full scholarship, he wasn't going to be able to attend.

"Let's go and see!" she urged, and he nodded, following her out the door and down the hall. They'd both get letters in the mail informing them of their results, of course, but that wouldn't be for days yet. He wanted to know _now_ if he was going to have a future as a student.

They jostled each other trying to get their shoes on, and it turned into a shoving match that helped them relieve at least a little of the tension they were both feeling. Sakura's parents had taken the car, so they ran to the nearest bus stop and waited impatiently until the bus arrived.

"You want to check Toudai?" Sakura asked once they were on the bus and heading farther into the city.

"I'm not sure," Issei admitted. "It's not like I can afford to go even if I got in. I'm fairly certain I _did_ get in, but I know I wasn't anywhere near a high enough score to get a scholarship. On the other hand, it would put off finding out whether or not I _can_ go to school next year, which isn't necessarily a bad thing."

Sakura laughed. "Right. Straight to Waseda University, then. If you put it off, you're just going to give yourself an ulcer from nerves."

"That obvious, am I?" Issei asked wryly, but he didn't try to argue. He clung to the overhead straps with a shaking hand as the bus neared the stop they'd have to get off at if they wanted to get to the main Waseda campus.

By the time they actually found the posting boards and started making their way through the crowds of other hopeful students looking for their examination numbers, Issei thought he just might be sick. So much rested on the one tiny detail of where his number fell in the ranking order on the boards. And he had such a narrow margin of error! They didn't give out many full scholarships, and while Waseda's exams weren't as difficult as Toudai's, they hadn't exactly been easy, either.

Sakura got them to the front by pushing and shoving relentlessly, her hand clamped around Issei's wrist. Whether that was to keep the crowd from separating them, or just to keep him from bolting, Issei wasn't sure. "I can't do this," he said, looking anywhere but the boards and swallowing hard.

"Yes, you can," Sakura insisted, scanning the lists for her own number. Like everyone else in the crowd, they both had their numbers memorized, though Issei was carrying his ID paper in his pocket just to double check that he hadn't mentally transposed a digit or something.

A moment later Sakura squealed and jumped up and down, jarring the wrist she was still clinging to. "Oh my gods! Issei! I did it, I got in! Look, look, there's my number!" She was pointing wildly to the middle area of the lists.

"I can't, I can't look," Issei said, turning away and hiding his face in her shoulder. His whole body was shaking, and he felt like he couldn't get enough air. He felt Sakura startle, then she released his wrist to wrap her arm around him and hug him.

"Give me your paper, I'll look for you," she said. He fished it out and handed it to her still without raising his face, and she chuckled softly as she took it.

A moment later, her arm tightened on his waist. "Issei. Issei, you have to look. I'm serious, you _have_ to look!"

She actually physically shoved him around so he was facing the boards before he realized what she was intending. Swallowing hard, he raised his eyes to the lists, telling himself that Sakura surely was above torturing him by making him look if his number wasn't there.

He started at the top and scanned down, and it took him all of one second to find his number. He froze, staring, his jaw dropping in shock. "Wh-what? That's... that's not possible..."

Sakura hit him lightly on the back of the head. "Of course it's possible! Gods, Issei, you've been doing nothing but study for the last six months! And it paid off! The top five entrants are guaranteed a free ride!"

"I placed third?" he said, still not believing what his eyes were telling him. Not only had he taken the third spot, but there was a very good chance the two people above him had also applied for Toudai, and been accepted there as well. And unless they were facing money issues like Issei, they would probably choose to attend the more prestigious school. Which would make him the top student in the year.

When it finally began to sink in, Issei started laughing and couldn't stop. With tears of relief and joy running down his face, he caught Sakura in a tight hug and whirled her around. "Blessed Sarjareem, I did it! Sakura, I did it! I can go to school!"

"Yes, you did, and you can!" she agreed, laughing just as hard as he was. "And so can I!" In the excitement of the moment all the awkwardness between them was suspended, letting them just revel in the joy of accomplishment together.

When he stopped whirling her, she grabbed his hand again and tugged him out of the crowd, making way for other anxious students. "This calls for a celebration," she said firmly. "We are going out tonight, and we're going to party so hard they'll be talking about it for years. But first, I'm treating you to lunch, and then..." she gave him an almost feral grin, "then I'm taking you shopping."

He blinked, and flushed. "Sakura, I don't have any money, you know that," he objected, trailing along behind her. "I won't get any of the scholarship money until school starts, and it's all going to need to go to tuition and expenses anyway."

"I said I'm _taking_ you shopping, not that we were _going_ shopping," she said, releasing his hand when they were out of the crowd and no longer in danger of being separated. She stayed close to him, though, and he was pleased to sense only a faint edge of discomfort in her despite their proximity.

"We had this argument the last time you insisted on buying my clothes, remember?" he prodded her, frowning. He didn't like having her just spend large amounts of money on him, even if she could afford it. It felt too much like charity, and he was already taking enough of that from her family.

"Yes, I remember," she agreed serenely. "I also remember that I _won_ that argument, and I'm going to win this one, too. So why don't you just give in and enjoy it, instead of fretting over every penny like you usually do?"

Issei sighed and dropped the subject for the moment, but resolved not to give in so easily this time. It wasn't as if he needed any new clothes; well, nothing that he had the nerve to ask Sakura to buy for him, anyway.

They found a cafe and took over a booth in the far corner. When Issei would have ordered something small and plain in defiance of her insistence on spending money on him, Sakura beat him to it, and ordered pretty much exactly what he _really_ wanted.

"You know me too well," he accused with a sigh when the waiter had brought them their milkshakes and left again. She merely smiled at him and took a sip of her own drink as he played with his straw. "Why this sudden insistence on shopping, anyway?" he wanted to know. "I've got more than enough clothes to last me until school starts. I wouldn't mind just window shopping, but I know you... you'll buy everything you see me looking wistfully at."

"You're right," she agreed, smirking. "But you need something to wear tonight, because when we go out, you're going as a girl."

Issei choked on the sip of milkshake he'd just taken. He grabbed a handful of napkins and pressed them over his mouth as he coughed, eyes watering. "Excuse me?" he gasped when he was able to speak again. He stared at Sakura, certain he'd misunderstood her. Or worse, that this was some sort of horribly cruel joke on her part, maybe in belated revenge for him breaking up with her.

"I said, you're going as a girl," she repeated placidly, stirring her drink with a straw. "Honestly, Issei, did you think I wouldn't notice that my things kept going missing, and then mysteriously turning up again? Well, most of them, anyway. I assume you've still got some stuff in your room."

When he just continued to stare at her, she sighed and reached out to pat his hand. "You could have trusted me, you know," she said softly. "I know we haven't been on very good terms for a while, but I would have helped you."

He flushed darkly, and ducked his head to hide his eyes behind his bangs. "I was too scared," he admitted in a low voice. "It's not that I don't trust you, Sakura, I just..."

"It's all right," she murmured, voice soft and comforting. "I think I understand. I'm not sure I'd have been able to bring myself to tell you, if our situations were reversed. But I've figured it out, so now you don't have to hide any more. And I _am_ going to help you."

He shook his head, raising his eyes enough for her to see his expression, which was a mixture of intense longing and desperate fear. "I... I can't. I'm not ready yet. I can't go out in public like that!"

"Then when _are_ you planning to?" she asked, leaning forward and looking at him intently. "Issei, think about it. Right now, you've got a month before school starts. When we get to university, the only person there who's going to know you is me. What better time will you ever have to make the transition? If you wait until later, you'll have to face other students and professors who know you're a guy. If you wait until _after_ school, then you'll have to face a company who probably followed your progress in the last years of school, and who'll be expecting a guy to show up for the first day of work."

He wilted under the stream of words, feeling like he'd been kicked in the gut. She was right. If he was going to do it, now was the best time. Maybe the only time. If he waited, it would only become more difficult, and he'd be more likely to chicken out. And he'd already decided that he didn't want to spend his life trying to force himself to be something he wasn't. He'd go insane before he was twenty-five.

"How do you know all this stuff?" he asked, stalling for time as his brain ran in little circles and refused to actually commit to a decision.

"I went to talk to Sakamoto-sensei after the last day of class," she answered, surprising him. "I asked her if there was anything I could do to help you. She said she couldn't tell me anything you'd said to her, but when I proved I already had a pretty good idea of what was going on, she gave me the same websites she gave you. That was enough."

"Really? You did that for me?" Issei was more than just touched by the gesture. With everything that had happened between them, Sakura had still gone out of her way to do something like that, just so she could better understand and help Issei with his problems. "Sakura... I appreciate the trouble you went to, and I agree that you're probably right about the timing, but I _still_ don't know if I'm ready to make a step that big," he said, lowered his eyes again.

She caught and squeezed his hand. "Just this once. Do it tonight; what will it cost you? We'll go to a club that isn't a hangout for our friends. If you can't handle it, we can always go home. If you can, then you'll have learned something important, right?"

Slowly, feeling like he was taking an irrevocable step, Issei nodded. "All right," he whispered. "Just this once." _Sarjareem, please let this NOT be the biggest mistake of my life since I chose to be born male in the first place!_


	16. Chapter 16

It had been a day for nervousness and fear, Issei reflected to himself as they stood in the long line outside the club. The implied length of the wait to get in had dismayed Sakura, but Issei had been just as glad; every moment spent in line was a moment when he wasn't inside trying to pretend he was a girl. In line, nobody really bothered to look twice at him, but inside it would be a different story.

Of course, every moment they stood here was another moment for him to turn over the same thoughts in his mind, causing more and more anxiety with each repetition. He was about ready to throw up just from sheer nerves; if he'd thought checking to see if he'd placed well in the exams was bad, this was a million times worse.

"I can't do this," he said to Sakura yet again. She just gave him a warm smile and squeezed the hand he was clinging to. "I can't!" he insisted. It was becoming a refrain almost as repetitive as the one in his head telling him he was an idiot for even thinking about trying this. "Please, Sakura, can't we just go home?"

"Not until we've spent at least half an hour inside," she replied, the same answer she'd given every time he'd begged to leave. "You promised to give this a fair shot, Issei."

He gave her a despairing look, and shivered, as much from the cold as from nerves. The skirt she'd coaxed him into only came to his knees, and he was learning that nylons were no defence against the chill late night wind that was blowing down the street. The loose, silky blouse he was wearing had short sleeves as well, but he had a light jacket on over it, at least.

"I can't do this, I can't do this," he chanted under his breath, closing his eyes and focusing on the crushing grip he had on her hand. Maybe if he clutched hard enough she'd understand how frightening this was for him, and let him go home.

"You can do this," her warm voice contradicted him gently. "Issei, stop _worrying_. You look fantastic. Every guy who walks by is checking you out." She took his hand in both of her to give better skin contact, and projected reassurance at him. Leaning in so that only he would be able to hear her, she added, "The long wig and the makeup were only the icing on the cake. You were already good enough to pass. With them, you just look stunning." She stepped back again, and freed one hand to slap him lightly on the shoulder. "So stop fretting and just relax and enjoy yourself!"

He opened his eyes and gave her an incredulous look, to which she merely smiled in return. _Enjoy_ himself? How was he supposed to enjoy himself when he was spending every moment just waiting for the axe to fall? For someone to point and say 'Oh my gods, that's a guy!', or even just to have a couple of beefy jocks drag him off to try to beat the shit out of him. He was in no way relaxed, and he was most certainly not enjoying himself!

Even he had to admit that Sakura had wrought a miracle on him, though. She'd taken him to a large shopping mall, saying it was more impersonal, and dragged him in and out of stores until they were both ready to collapse. When they'd gotten home she'd forbidden him to look in a mirror until she was done with him. She wouldn't even let him go to his own room to change so that he couldn't sneak a peek. Once he was dressed she'd fussed over the wig and makeup, until finally she'd let him see himself.

The change had been amazing. He'd stood there for a good five minutes, just staring at his reflection, feeling oddly at peace with the image for the first time in his life. He did look quite a bit like Enju, though the modern clothes and black hair of the wig skewed the perception somewhat. More importantly, though, instead of looking like an awkwardly effeminate boy, he'd looked like a pretty, feminine _woman_.

In the privacy of her room, with the shock of it still upon him, he'd been ecstatically happy and more than willing to agree to go wherever she wanted for their 'girls' night out', as she'd taken to calling it. Now that he was actually out in public, with strangers all around him, the initial euphoria had faded and left only terror in its wake.

" _Relax_ ," she chided him once more, tugging on his hand to make him pay attention to her. "You're going to be fine, but if you don't relax, you're going to give yourself a migraine from all that tension!"

"If I get a migraine, can we go home?" he asked hopefully, though he didn't really expect her to go for it.

As he'd thought, she shook her head and laughed softly. "No. You'll just have to suffer through it for half an hour. Assuming we ever _get_ inside," she added, frowning in the direction of the door. The line wasn't exactly moving quickly; they'd progressed perhaps a foot or two in the hour they'd been waiting.

Well, not getting in wouldn't be so bad. Here he could hide himself behind Sakura and the wall, and with his head ducked a bit, the long hair of the wig hid his face. Inside he'd be exposed, vulnerable. If they were stuck in line long enough, eventually Sakura's natural impatience would get the better of her, and she'd give up.

At the front of the line a minor commotion began, feelings of both smug satisfaction and angry disappointment filtering back to Issei. Wondering what on earth would cause that particular distribution of emotions within the same crowd, Issei leaned out a bit, trying to see.

"What is it?" Sakura asked, noticing the direction of his gaze. "Are they letting people in?"

"The line's not moving," he pointed out, trying to make sense of the milling people at the front of the line. And, he realize, now a little farther back along the line as well. The spikes of emotion were moving like a wave, rolling back from the front of the line towards them. "Something's coming this way that has people agitated," he said.

A few moments later they saw the source of the disturbance; one of the bouncers was moving along the line, pointing to people and indicating that they could go inside. Small wonder some people were happy, and most others irritated. He wondered what criteria they were basing the selection on.

It didn't take him long to figure it out; the people he was picking out of the line were the prettiest girls. A few shook their heads at the offer and clung to their boyfriends; most squealed and ducked out of line, heading quickly for the door. Issei's eyes widened and he gripped Sakura's hand tighter yet as the bouncer neared them. He wouldn't. Surely he wouldn't. Would he?

He did. He pointed right at the two of them and jerked his thumb at the door. "Yes!" Sakura exclaimed, bouncing and tugging Issei out of the line. "C'mon, let's go, before he changes his mind!"

"I've already changed my mind," Issei reminded her in a last ditch effort to convince her to let him go home where it was safe. "Please, Sakura..."

"Half an hour," she replied firmly, and the last of his hopes of escape were crushed as she dragged him up to the stairs and through the door.

Inside it was immediately obvious why the bouncer had been singling out the pretty girls; even with the fresh influx, the men still outnumbered the women by quite a bit. Several of the men inside had realized that everyone coming through the door at the moment was an attractive girl, and they'd lined up to whistle and hoot appreciatively at each new entrant.

They were no less enthusiastic in their praise for Issei and Sakura than they had been for the other girls, which make Sakura blush prettily, and Issei want to die. _If they had any idea who - or rather,_ what _\- they were applauding.... they'd kill me. Just flat out kill me, for daring to cause them to 'compromise their manhood'._

Yet even as the thought made him shiver nervously, he had to admit that some part of him was revelling in the attention. For the first time in his life, he was getting truly positive attention for his looks from other guys. He felt slightly deceitful, dressing as a woman to 'fool' them into paying attention to him. At the same time, however, he felt as if he was being truthful for the first time in his life. This is who he wanted to be. Genetically male or not, this is who he _was_.

"Come on!" Sakura cried, dragging him out to the dance floor. Oddly, he felt safer there; in the pulsing lights and press of bodies, it was hard to make out details of anyone's face or bodies. Certainly nobody would be able to hear the still masculine quality to his voice over the music.

Still, he stayed close to Sakura and tried not to bounce too much; the _last_ thing he needed was to have the stuffing fall out of the bra she'd convinced him to wear. Nothing would give him away faster, dim lighting or not.

By the time they had worked up a thirst, Issei was starting to relax, just a bit. There had been no shocked cries or exclamations of discovery, no pointing fingers or nasty looks. He'd even been hit on by several cute guys, though he'd turned them all down. In absolutely no way was he ready to attempt another relationship with anybody, male or female.

The attention was getting to him, though; he could feel the admiration of the men and even the occasional spike of jealousy from the women. He was being accepted for what he appeared to be. It was liberating, even as it frightened him.

Sakura ordered drinks for them both, handing Issei his favourite cider. He drained half the bottle in one gulp, sweaty and overheated from the exertion of dancing. "So, we've been here for over an hour," she remarked with a grin when he lowered the bottle again. "You still want to go home?"

Startled, he stared at her, then grabbed her wrist to glance at her watch. His was too obviously a man's watch, so he hadn't been able to wear it. To his shock, he saw that it was indeed more than an hour since they'd entered the bar.

"I didn't realize," he confessed, much to her amusement. "I... no, I guess I don't really want to go home."

Saying it aloud forced him to admit to himself that, despite his nerves, he _was_ actually having a good time. A slow grin broke over his face, then turned into a sincere laugh, bubbling up from deep inside him. Then it was Sakura's turn to be startled as gulped the rest of his cider, set the bottle down on the bar, and swept her into a tight hug.

"Thank you," he murmured into her ear, feeling her heart pounding almost in time with his. "Thank you so much, Sakura. I never would have done this on my own."

"You're welcome," she replied, and kissed him lightly on the cheek. He sensed a brief stab of sorrow from her for chances lost, but on the whole she was elated for him.

"You _do_ realize that this just gives me an excuse to drag you to the mall again tomorrow and buy you more clothes?" she teased him after a moment, pulling away. She kept her hands on his shoulders, though, holding him as she looked up into his eyes with a gamine grin. "You can't keep borrowing my stuff. Most of it is completely the wrong colour for you - and I get jealous every time I see you in any of it, because it looks so much better on you than it does on me!"

He knew he ought to object to her spending so much money on him, but the fact was, he didn't have any of his own. And she was right, he couldn't keep stealing her clothes. He realized with dawning surprise that he was already thinking as if he were actually going to carry this through, to start dressing like a woman in such a way that he'd _need_ more than one or two changes of clothes. Apparently his subconscious had made up his mind for him while his front brain was still dithering.

"What girl have you ever met would turn down a free shopping spree?" he said lightly. Her eyes went wide; she'd obviously been expecting to have to argue him into it. He gave her a slightly wavering smile. "I think... maybe... I can really do this," he concluded, his voice wavering even more than his smile. He cleared his throat, embarrassed at how nervous he sounded.

She hugged him again, then pulled away completely and turned back to the bar. "Well. A decision that momentous obviously calls for a drink. And then more dancing!" She smirked at him, and he laughed.

"You're absolutely incorrigible, you realize that?" he asked her, ruffling her hair. She snickered.

"Would you want me any other way?" she retorted, the smirk turning into a cocky grin.

"Absolutely not," he said firmly. "You're my best friend, and I like you just the way you are." That earned him a truly brilliant smile, and he felt the last of the emotional walls between them dropping away. There would always be a sense of bittersweet regret in their relationship, of chances wasted and possibilities denied, but Issei finally felt as if he had his friend back again.

"I'll drink to that," she answered him, and saluted him with her second bottle. He just smiled in return, content _and_ happy for the first time he could ever remember.


	17. Chapter 17

Issei tapped his pen idly on his notebook, slouched down in his seat in the middle of the large lecture hall. Ordinarily he wouldn't think of disturbing the people around him by fidgeting like that, but nobody else was paying any attention, either. It was only two minutes until the end of class, and the professor was just wrapping up what been a spectacularly uninspiring lecture.

Normally he enjoyed this class, which was all about how biology and evolution combined to create the ingrained and subconscious responses that differentiated 'males' from 'females'. The stereotypical 'hunter vs. gatherer' viewpoint was only scratching the surface of a truly fascinating subject, at least from Issei's point of view. However, today the professor hadn't seemed much more interested in her subject than most of the students in the room. Issei thought it might just have something to do with the gorgeous day they could all see out the windows, where the cherry blossoms were scattered everywhere and the people outside were laughing and enjoying themselves in the sun.

Finally the buzzer sounded, and there was a sudden surge in the noise level as everyone jumped out of their seats at once and started trying to fight their way up the rows to the one exit from the room. Issei stayed where he was, packing his books away in his bag at a leisurely pace. He didn't have another class for two hours, so he didn't need to rush to be anywhere. He'd rather wait five minutes until the room emptied and avoid the crush at the doors.

"Man, you'd think there was a stampeding herd of elephants in here instead of a group of university students," Sakura commented from his left, amused. He glanced up and smiled at her as she approached. She'd entered the class late, so they hadn't been able to sit together as they usually did.

"Don't you have a lab right after this class?" he asked, curious why she wasn't one of the people pushing to leave the room as quickly as possible. She shrugged.

"Yeah, but I've learned that I'll actually get there _faster_ if I hang around here for a few minutes and wait for the mob to pass." He chuckled at her answer, then leaned over to do up the flaps on his bag.

"Sakura?" he heard a startled male voice exclaim from the side. He froze, eyes wide, still ducked down out of sight. No. His luck _couldn't_ be that bad!

"Ogura!" Sakura exclaimed, confirming Issei's fears. "What are you doing here? I didn't know you even went to this school, let alone took this class!"

Issei turned his head enough to see past Sakura's legs. Sure enough, Jinpachi stood there, backpack slung over his shoulder on one strap, grinning at Sakura. Issei felt his heart skip a beat, and he swallowed. It'd been two years since he'd last seen Jinpachi, and time had been good to the other boy. He'd added a few more inches to his height and put more muscle on his arms and shoulders, and his face had matured from the awkward attractiveness of an adolescent to the firm handsomeness of a young man.

Swearing silently to himself for reacting to the sight of him even after all this time, Issei sat up again and turned away slightly, hoping Jinpachi wouldn't get a good look at his face. He was dressed as a woman today, the same as he had every day since the beginning of school. Sakura had been right about that much; it was much easier to make the transition in a place where nobody knew him. No one expected to see a guy when presented with a beautiful person wearing a skirt, and not one person had ever seen through his deceit, as far as he knew.

Jinpachi, on the other hand, had known him for years. Issei's face had matured too, of course, but if anyone would be able to recognize him despite the long hair, makeup and skirt, it would be Jinpachi. Issei had thought he'd finally put Jinpachi firmly in his past where he belonged, but if his shivery reaction to seeing the other boy was any indication, he wasn't as over Jinpachi as he'd thought he was. And if that was true... having Jinpachi reject him for what he was might very well destroy him.

Sakura and Jinpachi had been talking while all this ran through his head, of course. It finally ocurred to Issei that he really might want to pay attention to what was being said, even if he was faking the polite disinterest of someone whose friend had encountered an unknown aquaintance.

"...lost contact with just about everybody from the base, so it's really good to see you again, Sakura," Jinpachi was saying with an easy, open smile. "In the interest of not repeating past mistakes, do you want to exchange phone numbers or something?"

"That depends," Sakura said, her voice guarded. "Do you want it because you actually want to stay in contact with _me_? Or..."

"No, I'm not trying to get to Issei through you," Jinpachi cut her off, shaking his head. There was a sort of sad wistfulness in his voice that made Issei's heart squeeze. "He made it pretty clear two years ago that he wants nothing more to do with me. I'm not gonna hound him if he really wants me to leave him alone." Issei barely managed to repress a snort. If only the other boy had any idea... except, of course, Jinpachi realizing he was sitting right there was exactly what Issei was hoping to avoid.

"Well, all right, then," Sakura replied, her tone thawing somewhat. "I don't see why not. It's good to see you again, too." They each scribbled their contact information on a page in their notebooks, then tore them out and traded them.

"I have to go, I've got a lab I'm going to be late for," Sakura declared, hefting her own bag up to her shoulder. She glanced behind her at Issei, one eyebrow raised. "You coming?"

Issei was torn between standing to follow her out, and thus drawing attention to himself, or staying where he was and risk being left alone in the room with Jinpachi. After a moment of hesitation he nodded and stood, picking up his own bag.

"Hey, wait, aren't you even going to introduce me?" Jinpachi asked, one eyebrow raised. "It's hard enough to meet pretty girls on this campus, Sakura, it's not fair if you haul one off without even giving me a chance." He smiled at both of them, and Issei felt his face flush as his heart skipped a beat.

 _He's... he's_ flirting _with me?_ he thought, incredulous. He'd seen Jinpachi flirt with plenty of girls before, of course; the redhead had been good at it in high school, and was even better at it now. Of course, Issei was a little biased, so it wasn't exactly difficult for Jinpachi to get the reaction he was expecting. He felt like he was back in one of the fantasies he'd had so often in high school, when he'd dreamed of Jinpachi flirting with _him_ instead of the girls.

 _Of course, he thinks I_ am _a girl,_ Issei reminded himself, ordering his heart to calm itself. If Jinpachi had realized who he was talking to, the _last_ thing he'd have been doing was flirting. Still, it felt so _good_ to have some of that charming attention directed at him, at last.

He realized finally that Sakura was giving him a slightly quizzical look, as if asking him what he wanted her to do. He blinked, and projected a sense of confusion and resignation on a tight band to her alone. At least, he'd _meant_ to only send confusion and resignation; somehow some of the mixed terror and elation he was feeling leaked over into it as well.

Her eyebrow rose a little higher, but she turned back to Jinpachi as if she hadn't noticed a thing. "Ogura, this is Nakayama Isako, my roommate," she said, giving the name everyone but her now knew Issei by. "Isako, Ogura Jinpachi, an old friend of mine. We go _way_ back," she added, managing to get just the right amount of dry ironic humour into the words to make it sound like she was talking to someone who had no idea about their past lives.

"Pleased to meet you," Jinpachi said, bowing slightly. Issei returned the polite gesture, though he was still completely unable to bring himself to meet Jinpachi's eyes when he looked up.

"It's nice to meet you, too," he replied, suddenly intensely grateful for the hours of voice training he'd put himself through to ensure nobody would discover his secret because of his voice.

Jinpachi looked like he might say more, but Sakura grabbed Issei's wrist and tugged him out of the row of seats, into the aisle. "And now we _really_ have to go, because I'm going to be late," she said firmly. "It's good to see you again Ogura."

They made their escape while Jinpachi was still blinking in surprise at the sudden departure. The moment the doors closed behind them it was Issei's turn to tug Sakura along as he bolted for the front doors of the building, wanting to get well out of sight before Jinpachi followed them out.

Sakura ran with him, not protesting, though he could feel her radiating reassurance and concern at him through their linked hands. Issei didn't slow down until they were two buildings away and he was getting a stitch in his side.

When they finally dropped back to a walk, Sakura led him over to one of the park benches under the many trees on the campus and made him sit down. Issei didn't exactly argue, feeling a little dizzy and more than a bit shaky.

"Are you okay?" she asked him, crouching down in front of him and looking up into his eyes. He gave her a tremulous smile.

"You really _are_ going to be late for your lab if you don't go right now," he reminded her, sidestepping the question. Was he okay? He wasn't sure. How was he supposed to define 'okay'?

"I'm already late, and the teaching assistant that runs that lab likes me, he won't get mad at me for being a little more late," she asserted, patting his knee. "Now answer the question. Are you okay?"

He sighed, and slowly slumped over until his head was resting in his hands, his elbows braced on his knees. "I don't know," he admitted. "It never really occurred to me that I might just run into him by accident one day."

"You're shaking," she observed, moving her hand so she was stroking his shoulder instead.

"My heart is pounding so hard I feel like it's going to burst," he replied, lifting his head slightly to look at her. "I was so scared he was going to recognize me!"

"Issei, I don't think your own mother would recognize you now," Sakura told him firmly. "Your face has changed since you matured, your voice is completely different, and it's not like you have really memorable colouring or something. Grey eyes aren't that unusual, not with all the mixed blood babies that were born after the American occupation post World War Two."

"My mother never knew what Enju looked like!" Issei reminded her, feeling the edges of hysteria creeping up on him. Now that Jinpachi knew Sakura was in the class, chances were good he'd want to sit with her. And even if Issei avoided sitting with her from now on, if Jinpachi decided to try pursuing 'Isako'...

Sakura moved to sit beside him, and hugged him tight. "It'll be okay. You do look quite a bit like her, but you and I see it because really, subconsciously we _expect_ to see the resemblance. The last thing he's going to be expecting is to run into someone who looks like the lover he had briefly in a past life. And don't forget, it's not like he's even working from a full set of memories. He may not even remember Enju's face clearly."

"I remember Gyokuran's face," Issei objected. "And he and I shared the same dreams for a long time, remember?"

"Yes, but Enju was just as obsessed with Gyokuran as you are with Jinpachi," she reminded him with a small smile. "How many hours did you spend memorizing his every facial expression when you were in high school?"

"Uh..." He blushed as he was forced to concede the point. Enju had spent a lot of time watching Gyokuran, committing every detail about him to memory. He sincerely doubted Gyokuran had done the same. At least, not for Enju. He'd be willing to bet Jinpachi remembered Mokuren's face as clearly as Issei remembered Gyokuran's.

"There you go," she concluded triumphantly. "He's _not_ going to recognize you, Issei, unless you slip and give yourself away by mentioning your past or something. You'll be fine."

"I guess you're right," he agreed, feeling the fear slowly starting to ebb. He was still a little shaky as the happiness of having Jinpachi flirting with him remained, but he wasn't about to fall apart any more.

"Good. And now I really do have to go, before I miss the whole lab," Sakura declared, standing and patting his shoulder. "Go get some lunch, treat yourself to something nice. You can afford it," she cut off his automatic objection before he even had a chance to open his mouth. "I know your budget as well as you do, and you're ahead this month."

"All right, all right," he conceded, laughing. "I'll see you at home tonight after classes are done."

"That's the spirit," she said, and grabbed her bag from where she'd dropped it. "See you later!"

He watched her run off towards the science buildings, waiting until she was out of sight before he picked up his own bag and started walking towards one of the little off-campus cafes he'd found. It was one of his favourites, and it had a small outdoor area for patrons to sit at. It was such a beautiful day that he wanted to stay outside.

It wasn't long before he was sliding into the chair of the last unoccupied outdoor table, beating a young couple to it by only moments. He shrugged apologetically at them as he felt their disappointment. Ordinarily he might have let them have it, but he was indulging himself at the moment, as per instructions, and he wanted to sit outside.

He'd finished his sandwich and was just starting to savour his cheesecake, absorbed in reading a research paper that had been assigned to him as homework, when the familiar voice spoke from beside him for the second time that day. "Hey," Jinpachi said, making Issei jump and look up, wide-eyed. The redhead gave him a wry smile. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Nakayama, right?"

Issei nodded silently, heart pounding again, wondering what god of the perverse had caused him to run into Jinpachi twice in one day after not seeing him for over two years.

"Uh, this is gonna sound kind of forward of me, but would you mind if I shared your table?" Jinpachi asked sheepishly, holding up his tray as if in explanation. He nodded at the rest of the tables. "Everywhere else is full, and I'd really rather not sit inside."

Issei couldn't deny the crowded condition of the patio area, but he still couldn't believe Jinpachi was asking to sit with him. It wasn't that he didn't believe the other boy could be that bold, because he of all people knew better; he was just wondering what on Earth he'd done to earn this sort of karma, and what god he was going to have to pray to in order to get rid of it.

He opened his mouth to say that of course he minded! He was studying, he didn't want to be bothered, and he _especially_ did not want to be drawn into talking to Jinpachi. He couldn't honestly claim that he didn't want to have Jinpachi flirting with him, because a large part of him wanted it very much, but he still knew it would be a fantastically bad idea.

"All right," he heard himself say, much to his own shock and dismay. _Traitor!_ he accused his subconscious, or whatever part of his mind had driven him to agree. All he got in response was another increase in his heart rate at the sight of the broad smile Jinpachi favoured him with in return.

"Thanks!" the redhead exclaimed, setting his tray down and sliding into the chair across from Issei. "I was glad to see someone I even kind of knew out here; I figured I was so late I'd never get to sit outside."

Knowing that some sort of polite conversational response was expected of him, Issei murmured, "It's too pretty to be inside. The cherry trees are beautiful this year."

"They always are," Jinpachi agreed. "And somehow, every year is better than the one before."

Issei made a polite noise of agreement, and there was silence for a while as Jinpachi pulled out his own textbook and set to making inroads on his lunch. Issei couldn't decide whether he was more grateful or disappointed that the redhead apparently really _had_ just wanted a place to sit, and wasn't trying to flirt with him.

He returned to his own reading, but found himself utterly unable to concentrate. When he realized he'd just read the same paragraph three times without understanding a single word, Issei gave up and just watched Jinpachi, letting his long hair fall over his face to hide the fact that he was looking.

Finally curiosity got the better of him. "What are you studying?" he asked, after several minutes of trying to puzzle out the kanji on Jinpachi's textbook from upside down and sideways.

His old friend looked up and blinked, obviously taking a moment to reorient himself to the real world. "Ah... business, actually. I'm majoring in economics. Like half the other guys here," he added with a laugh.

"Really?" Issei was surprised. "I'd have thought you'd go into one of the sciences." Even as the last word left his mouth, he realized he'd just slipped up as Sakura had warned him not to do. He'd implied that he'd considered what Jinpachi would take at a previous time, and worse yet, he'd based his subconscious assumption on knowing that Gyokuran had been a scientist, and had loved his work. "That is, you just seem like... a science sort of person," he added lamely, clenching his hand in his lap.

"I love science, actually," Jinpachi agreed, sounding surprised. "But the truth is, my dad agreed to pay for my education _if_ I went for a masters in business. It was an offer I couldn't really afford to pass up. I've never been the greatest student in the world, so my grades weren't that high."

That made sense, though Issei felt a little sorry for his old friend. Jinpachi would probably make a very _good_ businessman, but he'd never be as happy in that profession as he might have been as a scientist.

"What about you?" the redhead asked, turning the question around. "What're you reading so intently over there?"

Issei blinked down at the pages he'd been reading, and paled slightly. Of all the things he had to be studying when Jinpachi asked him that question... "It's, uh, an essay on genetic factors versus conditioning in forming gender identity," he admitted reluctantly. "It's research for my psychology term paper." It wasn't exactly a dead giveaway to his secret, but there was always a part of Issei that was afraid somebody might someday question _why_ he was so interested in the topic of gender identity.

"Term paper?" Jinpachi looked startled and a little alarmed. "I don't remember the professor saying anything about a term paper! Did I miss something important?"

"No, no!" Issei hastened to reassure him. For a moment he'd forgotten _which_ class he'd met Jinpachi in. Of course the other boy's immediate assumption would be that the research was for that class, which was on nearly the same topic. "This is for a different class. Psychology is my major."

"Really?" the redhead relaxed a little. "I hadn't pegged you as the type to want to sit around all day listening to other people whine about their problems, and ask them circular questions to try to lead them to the conclusions they ought to be smart enough to come to on their own."

"I'm not," Issei agreed, the corners of his mouth twitching. "I'd probably kill somebody by the end of my first week." Actually, the idea of being a clinical psychologist made him shudder; as an empath, dealing with mentally disturbed and emotionally overwrought people all day long was the worst kind of nightmare he could imagine.

"So why are you studying it, then?" Jinpachi asked, now truly curious. "You got rich parents who'll just let you study whatever you want?"

"I wish," Issei replied, snorting softly. "I'm here on a full scholarship. You have no idea how difficult it is to keep my grades high enough that I don't lose it, and still have some semblance of a life."

That made Jinpachi sit up and stare at him. "Full scholarship? Are you serious?" Issei blinked and nodded. "Holy shit. All right, I'm officially impressed. I always figured the people who got those things were the kind of geeky little nerds who never see daylight because they spend every waking minute locked up in the library, hunched over their research." He laughed, and Issei had to laugh with him.

"Sometimes I feel like it," he acknowledged. "I'm studying to be a research psychologist, not a clinical psychologist." Seeing Jinpachi's blank looked, he elaborated, "Research psychologists are the ones who devise the experiments and surveys to try to broaden our understanding of why the human mind works and develops the way it does. Clinical psychologists are the ones who take the results of that research, and apply it to try to help real people."

"Okay, I get it," Jinpachi nodded. "I can see the appeal of that. Hell, that's why I'm in that class we share. The human mind is so fascinating, isn't it?"

"It is indeed," Issei said. Glancing at his watch, he sighed as he saw the time. He needed to head back to campus if he didn't want to risk being late for his next class. He was surprised to realize he was genuinely reluctant to leave Jinpachi's company; at some point during their conversation, he'd lost some of his fear around the other boy. In fact, he realized with a small shock, he'd been looking Jinpachi straight in the eyes for the last several exchanges, and talking freely without a single thought for whether his old friend might recognize his voice.

"I should go," he said, then glanced down and saw that he'd forgotten the last of his cheesecake. "As soon as I finish this," he amended, and scooped up a forkful.

Jinpachi didn't return to his studying, watching Issei instead. "Do I know you from somewhere?" he asked abruptly, a curious tone in his voice.

Issei managed not to freeze or drop his fork, but it was a near thing. He _had_ been too careless. Damn it! "You realize that pickup line is so old, they can carbon date it?" he replied, grateful that his voice came out light and amused. If he could brush it off, maybe Jinpachi would drop it.

The redhead flushed, the pink in his cheeks clashing with the orange of his hair. "That did sound incredibly cheesy, didn't it?" he agreed ruefully. "I mean it, though. I keep getting this feeling that I should recognize you. Where did you go to high school? Maybe I saw you in the halls or something."

"I went to Sakura's high school," Issei answered, trying to convince his pulse not to increase any more. If his heart beat any faster, he was sure Jinpachi would notice it fluttering frantically in the hollow of his throat, and wonder what on earth he was so nervous about. "And I'm certain I'd remember it if I'd ever seen you before," he added, wincing slightly as he realized that now _he_ sounded like he was flirting.

Jinpachi laughed and raised a hand to the back of his head in embarrassment. "Thanks, I think," he said. "I guess I'm wrong."

Relieved, Issei finished off his cheesecake and started gathering up his things. He stood and picked up his bag, eyes fixed firmly on what he was doing. He was startled when a strong hand reached out to rest on the bag, keeping him from picking it up. He raised his eyes to Jinpachi's, nervous again.

The redhead was giving him a slightly bashful smile. "At the risk of sounding both forward _and_ cheesy again... would you like to go to the pub crawl that's happening this weekend?"

Issei blushed furiously, and for a moment was seriously afraid he might faint. Jinpachi was asking him on a _date. How_ many fantasies had he had of that moment?

And no matter how much he wanted to say yes, he knew he didn't dare. Getting into any kind of relationship with Jinpachi would be the stupidest thing he could possibly do. Not only would he end up breaking his heart over him all over again, Jinpachi could hardly fail to realize that Issei wasn't the girl he seemed to be if they ever got much beyond just kissing.

At the thought of kissing Jinpachi, he blushed even harder. "I'm... I'm already going," he stammered, grabbing for any excuse he could think of. "With Sakura and a bunch of other girls from class. You're welcome to join us." What? He hadn't meant to say that. What had possessed him to add that?

Jinpachi tilted his head, giving Issei a sweetly sincere look. A tiny part of Issei was forced to wonder how long he'd practiced _that_ look in front of the mirror; 'sweet' wasn't a natural expression for Jinpachi. It did succeed in making him look both charming and sexy, however. "I was kind of thinking maybe we could go together," he clarified. "You'd still see Sakura and the others there."

"Then I guess the reverse is also true," Issei replied, his mouth somewhat on autopilot while his brain was gibbering and spinning in little circles. "So I'll see you there."

With that he tugged his bag out from Jinpachi's hand and clutched it to his chest like a shield. He spun fast enough that both his hair and skirt flared out around him in a move that unfortunately probably looked deliberately sexy to Jinpachi. Then he fled, not daring to look back, wondering just when the god of the perverse was going to let go of his life.


	18. Chapter 18

Issei lay sprawled over his futon, hugging the pillow to his chest, his eyes fastened on the digital clock on the floor beside him. It read three minutes to seven in the evening; their friends would be arriving any minute to collect Sakura and him for the pub crawl.

He should have been spending at least the last hour getting ready for the night out. He didn't get out very often, needing to spend insane amounts of time studying to keep his grades up, and when he did go out he tended to take advantage of the free time to really cut loose.

Tonight, however, he'd simply collapsed onto his bed the moment he returned from classes, and stayed there. He'd spent the whole week debating whether or not he was going to back out of this, given that he was certain Jinpachi was going to be there. He'd changed his mind a dozen times already, wavering between wanting to see his friend again, and being afraid that any further contact would only lead to the redhead recognizing him.

Nor did he want to lead Jinpachi on, make him think that Issei was interested in a relationship. Not that he _wasn't_... Sarjareem knew, Issei had wanted nothing else for so long that having the possibility dangled before him now was almost torture.

But even if he could somehow pull off hiding his identity from Jinpachi, he'd only end up hurting them both, badly. Physically Issei was still a hundred percent male, and he had no intentions of changing that any time soon. Although he'd eventually gotten over Jinpachi enough to be able to enjoy the flattering attention other males paid to 'Isako', he'd never dared get involved in anything other than flirting.

He didn't _think_ Jinpachi was the type of person who would get upset enough to hurt him upon discovering that the pretty 'girl' he'd been flirting with was actually a boy, but he couldn't be sure. You could never be completely sure how someone would react, until it happened. And whether or not he got violent, Jinpachi _would_ be hurt and shaken by the discovery. Issei had no desire to put his friend through something like that.

And even if, by some miracle, he managed to keep things light and break it off before Jinpachi realized the truth, he'd _still_ end up breaking his own heart over the handsome redhead all over again. Enju had been hurt by Gyokuran's persistent infatuation with Mokuren; Issei had been crushed by Jinpachi's rejection of him in high school. If it happened a third time, he didn't think he could bear it.

The doorbell rang, and Sakura called "I'll get it!" as she thundered down the hall in her sock feet. He heard the door open and the sound of feminine giggling; it sounded like at least a couple of the crowd had gotten a head start on their drinking.

He rolled over and buried his face in the pillow, closing his eyes. Well, that was it. The act of indecision had caused the decision to be made; he wasn't ready, so he wasn't going. He was female enough at heart not to want to be seen in jeans and a t-shirt for a night on the town.

"Isako? Hurry up, we're leaving!" Sakura called from the main room. Issei curled into a slightly tighter ball around his pillow.

"I'm not going!" he shouted back in return. "I've... I've got too much homework to do. You guys have fun without me." If he'd wanted to be truly convincing he should have gone out to the main room and looked glum about being stuck studying while everyone else was out having fun, but he wasn't a good enough actor to be sure he could pull it off.

There was an exclamation of surprise from the main room, and he mentally willed Sakura to just accept it and go out. To his dismay, he heard her footsteps heading back towards the bedrooms.

He sat up and quickly scrambled for his bag, yanking out the first textbook he came to an throwing it open on his bed, flopping down in front of it as if he was studying. Not a moment too soon; Sakura knocked briefly before opening the door just as he was settled again.

"I thought you were going to make an effort to get all your work done early this week so you could come out with us?" she asked, dismayed.

"I had a paper assigned in my last class today," Issei lied, keeping his eyes on the textbook. He could lie convincingly to anybody else, but she knew him too well. If she could see his eyes, she'd know something was wrong. "It's due on Monday, I need to get started right away."

She was silent for a long moment, and he tightened his shields a bit, making sure nothing was leaking out to give him away. "That might be a little more convincing if you weren't reading the textbook for the one class you and I share," she pointed out dryly. "Upside down, at that."

Actually focusing his eyes on the book, he groaned as he realized she was right. Not only was it upside down, not only was Sakura well aware that they didn't have any unexpected assignments in that class, they hadn't even _had_ a lecture for that class today. He had the text in his bag because he'd been reading ahead at lunch today.

"So you want to tell me what's really going on?" she asked, as he gave in and looked up at her. He grimaced. He hadn't told Sakura about the second meeting with Jinpachi earlier that week; not from any real desire to hide it from her, but because they really didn't see much of each other, despite living in the same apartment, unless they made time for it. Like this night out they'd planned for tonight.

"Jinpachi's going to be there," he admitted, pulling his knees to his chest and hugging them tightly. "I ran into him at the cafe the other day after you went to your lab. He asked me to go _with_ him tonight; I turned him down, but I did it by telling him I'd already planned to go with you and the others."

"Ohhh, shit," Sakura said with feeling, giving him a sympathetic look. "You just have the _worst_ luck, don't you?" He nodded, and she backed out of the room, shaking her head.

He thought that was the end of it... until he heard her telling the others to go on ahead, that they'd meet up with the group later. He bolted to his feet and went to the door of his room, staring at her as she closed the main door behind their friends. "Sakura!" he protested, his voice breaking slightly. "What are you doing? I'm not going!"

"Oh yes you are," she countered, turning and giving him a scolding look. "You can't just hide in here, Issei. Are you planning to skip class from now on, too?"

"No, of course not," he said, wincing. The truth was, he wished he dared to do exactly that, but he couldn't afford to miss that many classes if he wanted to keep his scholarship. "But seeing him in class is different from going to a bar where he's going to be waiting for me! With my luck, given the way I turned him down, he probably thinks I was just being coy or playing hard to get!"

He realized his voice was starting to rise hysterically when she came over and gripped his shoulders, shaking him slightly. "It's okay! Issei, he's not the sort of person to pursue someone after she's said 'no'. So, just tell him 'no', outright, and he'll back off. You know that!"

He gave her a despairing look. "It's telling him 'no' that's the hard part, Sakura! I'm not sure I can do it convincingly." Not when his heart was begging him to say 'yes'. He doubted he'd be able to put enough conviction into the refusal to make it seem like anything but more 'hard to get' coyness.

She studied his eyes for a moment, then sighed. "You still love him, don't you?" she asked softly. He nodded miserably. "After all this time... I thought you'd gotten over him."

"I thought so, too," he replied "Right up until the moment I saw him again and my heart jumped into my throat."

"Well, you _still_ can't run from him forever," she asserted, dropping her hand to grab his wrist. She tugged him back into his room. "You're going to get dressed, and you're going to go out tonight, just like we'd planned. The last thing you want to do is let his presence dictate your life, Issei."

"This is a really bad idea," Issei asserted, dragging his feet. "Beyond bad. Horrible. Sakura, why are you doing this to me?"

"You're doing this to yourself," she told him with a quick grin. "Trust me. Go out there tonight, face him, tell him 'no' and mean it. Then it'll be over, and you'll never have to deal with it again. You can work up enough conviction for _one_ 'no', can't you?"

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," he muttered, but he already knew he was going to give in. Sakura could be damned stubborn when she was doing things 'for his own good'. It was easier just to go along with her and let her have his way.

He watched in bemusement as she went through his closet methodically, picking up and discarding shirts and skirts. "Why are you going through my most attractive outfits?" he asked warily. "Are you _trying_ to get him more interested in me?"

"Look, we both know he's the kind of guy who loves a challenge, right?" she tossed over her shoulder. Without waiting for him to agree, she continued, "He's going to chase you no matter what you show up wearing."

"I still don't see the point of making him _more_ interested!" he objected, collapsing down to sit on his futon, watching her.

"You're in love with him, right?" she asked without bothering to turn around. He made a noise of assent, unable to really deny it. "But you're stuck having to turn him down. Which sucks, but hey, that's life. Still, wouldn't you rather he _regretted_ having you turn him down?"

"Well..." He had to admit he could see the logic in that. If he had to turn Jinpachi down, it _would_ be nice to have the thought that the redhead mourned the lost chance. "I suppose so."

"So, you're going to look as good as you possibly can," Sakura concluded, emerging from the closet in triumph. She was holding an outfit that Issei had bought the year before but never actually had the guts to wear; a tight black lycra spandex dress with a white oriental dragon winding over the front.

"I can't wear that!" he protested immediately, eyes wide. "I never should have bought it in the first place!"

"Why?" she wanted to know, examining it curiously. "It looked so fantastic on you!"

"Because it's so tight," he explained, shifting uncomfortably on the bed. "You know I prefer loose clothes because they hide me better." He blushed. He had a special bra that was made for women who'd had mastectomies, so he no longer had to worry about losing stuffing in the middle of the dance floor, but... there were other problems to be considered.

Seeing Sakura's stubborn look, he realized she didn't understand just what the problem was. He sighed, and elaborated. "Sakura... do you really think I could wear a skirt _that_ tight around Jinpachi - who will no doubt be dressed to kill as well - and not have someone clue in to my secret?"

It took Sakura a second to work that through, but once she'd clued in, she blushed just as hard as Issei. "Um. Right. Okay, I can see where that would be a problem," she conceded. "But not an insurmountable one. Just a second."

She dropped the spandex dress on his bed and darted across the hall into her own room, where he heard her going through her drawers. A moment later she returned with a heavy black suede skirt. "Wear this over top, and no one will see a thing," she said, grinning as she dumped the skirt on top of the dress.

"You're determined to make me go through with this, aren't you?" he asked her with a sigh. She only grinned at him, and he rolled his eyes. "When this blows up in my face, I'm going to know exactly who to blame," he muttered, reaching for the dress and skirt. "I was going to do the sensible thing and stay home!"

Half an hour later they were walking out the door. The suede skirt was a couple inches longer than the skirt of the dress, so it really did look like he was just wearing a tight shirt, or maybe a bodysuit. Issei had to admit that the outfit looked damn good on him. Sakura had helped him with his makeup, and put his hair up in a high ponytail with two long pieces left out of the tail on either side of his face. She'd wanted to put all his hair up, but he'd pointed out that having all his hair off his face made him look more like his old self, so they'd compromised.

Sakura was wearing heels, which put her at almost the same height as him, since he was wearing pumps. They drew more than a few whistles and appreciative glances as they walked down the street towards the campus, heading for the bar district that catered to the students nearby. Each sign of admiration made Issei feel a little better about the entire situation; it always felt good to receive confirmation that he not only passed as a girl, but made a damn attractive one at that.

By the time they caught up with their friends, most of the other girls were well on their way to being drunk. Issei grabbed the one drink that he allowed himself when he went out; any more than that and he started to get drunk enough that he lost fine control over his power, and that was the _last_ thing he wanted to do tonight.

He danced with Sakura for a while, doing his best to enjoy himself and trying to seem like he wasn't spending all his time watching nervously for some sign of Jinpachi. When they'd hit the third club on the crawl and there was still no sign of his old friend, Issei was starting to think the redhead had decided not to show up after all. He scolded himself for the sharp ache that overcame him at the thought. He didn't _want_ to have to face Jinpachi, so he had no right to be disappointed that he wasn't going to have to.

"Looks like he's not going to be here after all," he shouted to Sakura over the pounding music. She nodded, and shrugged.

"Yeah, looks like it. Maybe he had an assignment or something." She glanced around, and gave Issei a sheepish smile. "That cute guy from my bio lab is here, you mind if I go try my luck? I'll stay with you if you'd rather not be alone...'

"No, you go ahead," he assured her. "I'll be fine, and there's no sense in both of us going home lonely tonight if we don't have to." He summoned a smile from somewhere, and it must have looked convincing, because she patted him on the shoulder and drifted away through the crowd, presumably heading towards the guy she'd set her sights on.

He danced for a little while longer by himself, but eventually he got tired of having to discourage everyone who kept trying to hit on him. Flattering as the attention was, he wasn't really in the mood for it at the moment. There was only one person he really wanted to have looking at him that way, and it was the one person he couldn't have.

The next time they changed clubs he hung back, staying off the dance floor and claiming a small table for himself instead. After a moment of debate he snagged a passing waiter and ordered another drink for himself as well; they'd been out long enough now that the effects of the first had completely worn off, so he felt safe getting another.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there when he felt a surge of interest from behind him, accompanied by a brief taste of elation. It was just enough warning for him to brace himself; a moment later Jinpachi came into view from his left, grinning at him.

"Hey," the redhead greeted him, lifting his beer in salute. "I was starting to think I'd either missed you, or you hadn't shown up after all."

Issei nodded in return, his eyes guarded as he tried to keep himself from visibly reacting in any way. The other boy was dressed in very tight jeans and a button-down tan silk shirt that hung open over a black tank top. His hair was mussed and there was sweat on his face; presumably he'd just come from dancing, but to Issei's overactive imagination, he looked more like he'd just returned from a wild bout of sex.

"I was just about to give up and go home," Issei lied, feeling his heart pounding in his throat. It wasn't fair that Jinpachi could look so damn sexy without even really trying. How was he supposed to stay level-headed and in control when faced with the object of his every fantasy, looking like he'd just stepped _out_ of one of said fantasies?

"You can't give up now!" Jinpachi protested, waving a chiding finger at him. "We're only two clubs from the end of the crawl. It's like, sacrilege to give up now."

"I have a lot of work tomorrow," Issei insisted, ducking his head and fiddling with his bottle. "Scholarship, remember? I almost never stay to the end of the night."

"Well, then it sounds like it's about time you did," Jinpachi replied firmly. "You don't want to turn into one of those library-bound geeks, do you? C'mon, it's another hour at most. Will that really make a difference?" He paused, and when Issei said nothing, he continued, "You're not leaving because of me, are you? If you want me to get lost, all you have to do is say so, you know. I promise, I'm a big boy, I can handle a 'no', even from a girl as pretty as you."

It was the perfect opening, and Issei had been ready to take it, until Jinpachi had added that last bit. He glanced up and was caught by the sincere intensity of the other boy's eyes. It was the sort of compliment a guy like Jinpachi probably gave to every girl he pursued without really thinking about it, but damn if he didn't look like he meant every word. Issei floundered, tongue-tied.

Jinpachi chuckled, seeing the flustered look Issei was giving him. "I know, I'm a forward son of a bitch, aren't I? I keep promising myself I'll learn when to back off, but I never seem to get the hint. So, since I've already put my foot in my mouth..." He set his beer down on the table, and held a hand out towards Issei. "Dance with me? Just one dance, to be fair. So you'll know what you're turning down."

"I shouldn't," Issei murmured, staring at the offered hand like he was afraid it would snap out and hit him. His heart was pounding so fast he could hardly draw breath, and he felt dizzy.

"Why not?" Jinpachi asked reasonably, and Issei gave him a tortured look.

"Because I don't want to get my heart broken again," he almost whispered. Jinpachi had to lean in to hear him over the beat of the music, and that put them entirely too close for Issei's liking. Or not close enough, depending on how he looked at it. Oh gods, what was he thinking? He was already in over his head. He needed to say 'no' and get _out_ of there before he went under for good.

"I've been accused of having a high opinion of my own attractiveness, but even I've never claimed to break hearts with one dance," Jinpachi laughed. "So I think you're safe to risk that much."

 _If you only knew,_ Issei thought wretchedly. _Say 'no', damn it,_ he instructed himself harshly. _Just say 'no' and get the hell out of here! You can't afford to do this, no matter how much you want to._

He looked into the beautiful eyes he'd spent so much time studying as a teenager, and he knew his heart was going to win out over his head. "All right," he heard himself say, as he reached out and took the proffered hand. "Just one dance, then I have to go. Really."

Jinpachi's face lit up with a broad grin, and Issei was lost. The defences he'd so painstakingly wrought around his heart crumbled, and he finally admitted what he'd really already known for a long time. Gyokuran, Jinpachi, or any other incarnation, this was the soul he'd been born to love, and nothing he did was ever going to change that.

He let himself be pulled onto the dance floor, and realized to his dismay that the steady stream of dance music had shifted gears into the range of slow songs, leaving people pairing off all over the dance floor. "Just my luck," Jinpachi laughed, still smiling down at him. "Now you're going to think I timed this deliberately. We can wait until the music changes again if you want."

Issei shook his head silently. The music would stay slow for at least a couple songs, and waiting would mean having to sit there with Jinpachi, talking. He didn't think his nerves could take it. Better to get it over with now, so he could bolt with a clear conscience.

And, if he was being honest with himself, the idea of having he memory of even one slow dance with Jinpachi to hold close in the long, lonely years ahead of him was more than a little appealing. The chances of a sickness or accident cutting this life as short as the last had been were slim, which meant he was going to have a long time to be alone if he didn't manage to get over Jinpachi.

He allowed the redhead to pull him close, though he was grateful that Jinpachi was careful to keep some space between their bodies. It meant he didn't have to pull away and make things awkward, but he couldn't afford to get too close. The skin contact between them was letting him pick up Jinpachi's attraction towards him, and that combined with his own shivery excitement at being held by the man he loved was causing his body to react in a predictable fashion. The heavy skirt Sakura had lent him could only do so much to cover it; if he ended up pressed close to Jinpachi, the other boy _would_ notice eventually.

He let Jinpachi lead the dance, closing his eyes and just savouring the feel of the strong hand wrapped around his, and the redhead's arm around his waist. After a minute or so, greatly daring, he shifted slightly closer and laid his head on Jinpachi's shoulder. He heard the redhead make a slightly startled noise, before tightening his grip slightly and continuing to dance.

The beat of the music seemed to sing in his veins in time with his heartbeat, and beneath his cheek he could sense Jinpachi's heart beating as well, almost as fast as Issei's. He could feel desire rising inside the redhead, desire for _him_ , though Jinpachi made no move to try to urge Issei into closer contact. At that moment Issei realized he'd miscalculated; as with Sakura, his ability to feel Jinpachi's lust was triggering his own. Except in this case, the outside emotion wasn't filling a lack on his part, it was feeding fuel to the fires that already existed.

"Are you all right?" Jinpachi murmured in his ear. Issei opened his eyes and pulled away slightly to look up at him quizzically, and the redhead gave him an uncertain smile. "You're shivering, but it's like a hundred degrees in here. You can't be cold."

Cold? No, he wasn't cold, he was burning up, but it had absolutely nothing to do with external temperature. "This was a mistake," he said, hardly aware he was speaking the words aloud. He tried to pull away, but Jinpachi captured his hands, holding him there. "Please, let me go. I shouldn't be doing this."

"Why not?" Jinpachi persisted, frowning. "What are you so afraid of? I won't hurt you."

"Not on purpose," Issei countered, tugging ineffectively at his captive hands. He gave Jinpachi a pleading look, and shivered again at the heat in the other boy's eyes. He cursed as he realized some of his emotions were slipping past the cracks in his shield; the soul-deep connection he'd always shared with Jinpachi was still there, and if he wasn't careful Jinpachi was going to realize that not all the emotions he was feeling were his own. If that happened, he could hardly fail to draw the correct conclusions about Issei's identity.

"You can't live your whole life running away from the possibility of being hurt," Jinpachi argued, pulling him a little closer despite Issei's token resistance. He wasn't truly forcing anything, Issei could have broken away if he'd truly wanted to, but the conflict between his head and his heart was enough to keep him from breaking Jinpachi's hold over him. "If you do, you'll never really live at all."

"I don't have a choice," Issei replied, not even sure what they were talking about any more. They'd stopped dancing and were just standing there in the middle of the crowd, Jinpachi leaning down towards him to hear him over the music, and they were far too close together for Issei's peace of mind. He was finding it hard to think about anything except how much he wished he dared to lean up and feel Jinpachi's lips against his in a kiss as willing as the one they'd shared in high school had been unwilling.

Perhaps subconsciously picking up on Issei's desire, Jinpachi closed the distance between them. Before Issei could do more than make a faint protesting noise they were kissing, an embrace as hot as it was sweet. The slow burn of it scorched them both, emotions running high as Issei's empathy picked up what they were both feeling and threatened to turn it into a feedback loop.

The moment Jinpachi's mouth closed over his, Issei knew his relationship with Sakura had been doomed from the start. What he'd felt kissing her was _nothing_ compared to the way this felt, and the difference in intensity was almost mind shattering. Jinpachi released his hands, but Issei was only able to raise them to clutch helplessly at the taller boy's shoulders, needing the anchor to keep him fastened to reality. Otherwise he felt like he might burn up and drift away, reduced to nothing more than emotion and need.

Some part of him was vaguely aware of the wolf whistles they were drawing; university bar or not, this was still Japan, and public displays like this were unusual. At that moment, Issei really couldn't have cared less. Jinpachi was kissing him the way Issei had always dreamed of being kissed, the way even Gyokuran had never kissed Enju; as if there was nothing more he wanted to be doing at that moment than kissing the person he was holding. There was nothing he could sense that indicated Jinpachi was using him as a replacement of any kind; the redhead wanted _him_ , and him alone.

Except, of course, that it _wasn't_ Issei that Jinpachi wanted, it was _Isako_. This kiss was no more real than the ones Gyokuran had shared with Enju, pretending the empath was Mokuren. It was still an illusion, passion fostered by a lie, and if the truth were brought into the light of day, the passion would vanish like the mirage it was.

That thought allowed Issei to break free of the spell at last, and he pulled away, gasping for air. He almost fell, dizzy with emotion, and only Jinpachi's strong hands on his shoulders kept him from going over.

"Don't," he begged, shifting his grip on Jinpachi's shoulders so he could push against the other boy, buying more distance between them. "Please, don't. I can't do this."

"What is it?" Jinpachi asked, sounding confused. "Nakayama-san, I don't understand. You enjoyed that as much as I did..."

"I just can't!" Issei exclaimed, breaking free at last. He gave Jinpachi one last tortured look, his eyes filled with tears, before he bowed deeply in apology. "Forgive me. I didn't intend to lead you on. Please don't let this happen again."

With that he turned and fled, dodging through the crowd, ignoring Jinpachi's half-shouted protest behind him. If he stayed another moment, even to try to explain, he'd only break down and do something stupid, like try to kiss Jinpachi again. And it was pretty obvious at this point that Jinpachi wasn't likely to stop him.

 _Why do I keep doing this to myself?_ he thought bleakly as he ran, trying to see through the tears in his eyes. _Why can't I just learn from my mistakes? Am I going to spend the rest of this life running away every time I encounter him?_ If there was a better answer, he hoped he would find it soon, before his heart shattered completely beyond repair.


	19. Chapter 19

In the end, Issei reflected, it hadn't been as difficult to avoid Jinpachi as he'd feared it would be. This was in large part because the redhead had made no attempts to contact him since the disastrous night in the pub several weeks ago. Issei often saw him in class, and Jinpachi sometimes watched him rather than the professor, but overall they hadn't even so much as nodded a greeting to each other.

It was hard to keep reminding himself that it was better this way. If he hadn't had to see Jinpachi three times a week, it might have been easier, but his heart ached fiercely every time he saw the other boy. It didn't help that he could feel Jinpachi's own longing and regret through the bond they still shared, no matter how hard Issei tried to shield. He could only hope he wasn't projecting at Jinpachi as well, or the redhead would inevitably figure out who he was.

Sakura had been appropriately apologetic that her suggestion had blown up in Issei's face so badly. She'd practically waited on him hand and foot for a week after, until he'd finally gotten fed up and begged her to just drop it. He didn't blame her in any way. She'd been right, theoretically, about what it was he needed to do in order to close Jinpachi's chapter in his life once and for all. It was his own damn fault he hadn't been able to follow through properly, and it certainly wasn't her fault that his heart still broke anew every time he saw Jinpachi.

Summer was in full swing, and the cicadas were obnoxiously loud as Issei exited the psychology building. He hadn't seen Jinpachi in class that day, so for once he'd actually been able to pay proper attention to the lecture. It had been a fascinating lecture, too, so he was glad for the chance.

Briefly he wondered why his old friend had missed the class, before scolding himself for allowing the thought. Sakura had skipped the class as well, down with a nasty flu that was running rampant through the campus despite the odd time of year for it. Chances were good Jinpachi was out with the same thing. Issei had worked through his own bout of it the week before, and while he hadn't let himself miss any classes, he might as well have for all the attention he'd been able to pay.

He stepped out of the way of the foot traffic, pausing in the shade of a small tree and enjoying the way the sun shifted over his face as the leaves moved in the wind, blocking the light. It really was a gorgeous day. He didn't have the money free to be able to eat at his favourite cafe, but he had enough time to go home and grab a sandwich, and eat in one of the parks. Smiling, he decided to do just that. It was too nice to eat in the windowless cafeteria.

The only warning he got was a brief flash of triumph; Jinpachi stepped out from behind the building next to the psych wing, and blocked Issei's route. Panicked Issei froze, staring wide-eyed at the taller boy.

They just looked at each other for a long moment, Issei nervous, Jinpachi oddly determined. Finally Issei managed to get his voice to work, albeit hoarsely. "J... Ogura-san. Wh-what are you doing here?" He cursed himself, both for the slip, the stutter, and the sheer inanity of that comment.

"Waiting for you," Jinpachi replied, his voice low enough to send shivers down Issei's spine. He'd never seen his friend looking like this. This wasn't anger, or... or any other emotion Issei was used to from Jinpachi. In fact, he realized, he wasn't picking up much of anything directly; the other boy was _so_ focused he was unintentionally blocking Issei's empathy.

Somehow Issei gathered the courage to face him head on, and this time his voice didn't waver. "I thought I asked you not to pursue me," he said quietly. "You didn't strike me as the type of person to be rude enough to pester a girl after she's turned you down."

"You did, and I'm not," Jinpachi agreed with no change in his expression or inflection. "Usually. I'm making an exception, just this once."

"Don't," Issei replied flatly, starting to turn away. "You already have your answer, please don't..."

"Please." Jinpachi shifted so he was in front of Issei again, and finally his voice softened a bit. Issei made the mistake of meeting his eyes; Jinpachi's gaze was full of pleading, though Issei still couldn't quite make out exactly what emotions the other boy was feeling. "Please, I know this is forward and horribly rude of me, but... I _need_ to talk to you. Just talk, I swear, I won't touch you."

"For what purpose?" Issei countered, feeling his heart squeeze. "I..." he swallowed hard and forced the lie. "I'm not interested in a relationship with you. That's all I have to say."

"At least tell me _why_ ," Jinpachi insisted. "It's not because you're not interested, don't tell me that. That kiss... I know you felt it too. I could see it in your eyes. I've never felt anything like that before."

Desperate to get away from this conversation before it headed into dangerous territory, Issei fished for an excuse to leave. "I don't want to have this conversation here," he said, making his voice firm. "It's too public. And I'm not about to follow you somewhere private; you're acting like a stalker. Please leave me alone."

Jinpachi gave him a quirky smile. "I know I sound psychotic. Trust me, I've run this speech through my head so many times trying to find a way to make myself _not_ sound like a stalker, I've got it memorized." He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair, dishevelling it. "I'm not asking you to go somewhere private. Just... semi-private? A corner of one of the campus gardens, or something. You'd still be in public view, but people wouldn't be able to overhear us as easily."

Issei stared at him, trying to decide the best course of action. With the determination that was radiating from Jinpachi at the moment, he was probably perfectly willing to follow Issei all the way home, until Issei agreed to talk to him. Maybe it would be best just to get this over with now.

"I'll go, on one condition," he said finally. Jinpachi's eyes lit up, but Issei raised a hand to stem his old friend's enthusiasm. "The condition is that once I've heard you out, you promise not to ever approach me again. If I'm going to have to actively avoid you for the rest of my time at this school, I might as well start now."

The redhead sighed and gave him a rueful grin. "How about, I promise not to approach you again _if_ your answer is still the same once you've heard me out? If I do manage to change your mind, it'd be pretty awkward for me to keep my word."

Issei's lips quirked despite his best efforts not to respond to Jinpachi's charm. "Fair enough," he agreed. "I've got a class in..." he glanced at the clock tower, just visible from this angle. "About an hour and a half. You've got that long, and no longer." Hopefully it wouldn't take that long. Issei wasn't sure he could spend that much time in Jinpachi's company, with the redhead trying to persuade him to do exactly what he _wanted_ to do, without breaking down.

Nodding once, Jinpachi then turned and started to walk towards the nearest school garden, not even looking to see if Issei was following. He hurried after his friend, clutching his bag to his chest in a futile effort to help calm his pounding heart. This was a mistake, just as every encounter with Jinpachi had been a mistake, but hopefully it would be his _last_ mistake.

The campus gardens were tucked away between the buildings, and consisted of long, winding paths through quite a lot of pretty flowers and shady trees. Since there were no exits at the backs of the buildings, and the paths meandered quite a bit, they were in no way a short cut between classes. There was surprisingly little traffic in them, even during the busiest parts of the school day. It wasn't hard for them to find a corner to themselves. As Jinpachi had promised it was secluded enough for them to have a private conversation, but still in plain view of the rest of the world.

Issei's nerves grew with every step they took. By the time they finally stopped, it was all he could do not to shake with dread of what was coming. Jinpachi stopped and turned to face him, and gave him a curious look, clearly surprised at Issei's expression.

"I won't hurt you," the redhead promised softly. "You don't have to be afraid of me, I promise. I really do just want to talk to you."

Issei couldn't meet his eyes. "It's not you I'm afraid of," he whispered. He hadn't really meant to say that out loud, but his defences were so far down they might as well have been non-existent.

"Well, what _are_ you afraid of?" Jinpachi persisted. "That seems like a good place to start. If it's not me, then what? Why are you so dead set against the idea of a relationship with me, when I can tell you want it as much as I do?"

"I've had some... hurtful relationships, in the past," Issei admitted, carefully tailoring his words. Before Jinpachi could make the expected objection, he added, "I know I 'can't judge all men by the ones who hurt me', and all that sort of thing. It goes beyond just that. It's something I can't really explain, but... I just can't have a relationship with you, or any man. I'll only end up hurting us both, and you deserve better."

He knew he'd said too much when he looked up to see Jinpachi staring at him with determination again. "You can't hide from your feelings forever, Isako-san," the redhead said, daring the intimacy of using the given name rather than the family name. Issei flinched slightly, and looked at the ground. It had the opposite effect from the one Jinpachi had intended; hearing his female name only reminded him that none of this was real, or could possibly last.

"Yes I can," Issei insisted, fighting off a vague feeling of hysteria. "I can, and I will. I have to."

"Look at me," Jinpachi commanded him. "Please?" he added when Issei continued to stare at the ground.

Slowly Issei raised his eyes to meet Jinpachi's once more. His heart skipped a beat, and tears welled up as he stared at the beloved face, memorizing it for probably the last time. He couldn't handle this. He was going to have to either change schools, or resign himself to dropping out entirely. Drastic, perhaps, but the only thing this 'talk' was proving was that he could not handle having Jinpachi around without betraying himself.

A tear escaped him and slid over his cheek; Jinpachi reached out and caught it on one fingertip. He managed to do it without brushing Issei's skin, thus keeping the letter of his promise not to touch. It was Issei who made the contact despite himself, drawing in a sharp breath and turning his head so his cheek met Jinpachi's hand, closing his eyes as the sudden connection swept him with even more conflicting emotions.

"Why do you cry whenever you're near me?" Jinpachi murmured, his voice sliding into an oddly comforting lilt.

"Because it feels so good, it kills me to walk away," Issei admitted painfully, his voice hardly loud enough to be heard.

The sudden jolt of anger and disappointment caught him by surprise. His eyes flew open and he backed up a step reflexively, staring at Jinpachi. The redhead's gaze was accusing now, drilling into Issei in such a way the empath would have sworn there was a physical wound. "What..."

"Nobody but the seven of us would know that language," Jinpachi said, his voice low and dangerous.

"What?" Issei hastily reviewed what they'd just said, and froze as he realized the truth. The 'comforting lilt' had been because Jinpachi wasn't speaking Japanese, he'd been speaking the language they'd all used while living in the moon base. It had been Enju's native tongue for longer than Japanese had been Issei's; he'd responded in the same language without even realizing the switch had been made. "Oh no..."

" _Issei_." Jinpachi said the name with conviction. "It _is_ you. Damn it, I _knew_ I recognized you from somewhere!"

Issei could hardly breathe for the panic that was tearing through his system. "Jinpachi... I..." He tried to back up another step, but the redhead caught his wrist before he could pull away, holding him in place.

"What is this, some kind of twisted revenge?" Jinpachi demanded, his eyes snapping with rage. And, some sickly fascinated corner of Issei's mind noted, with lust. Even though he'd figured out the truth, some part of Jinpachi still wanted the beautiful girl he saw before him. "What did you do, use your empathy to drive me into obsessing over you so you could laugh at me later when you told me the truth? How far were you going to take this, Issei?"

"No!" Issei said, horrified at the very idea. "No, Jinpachi, you've got it all wrong..." He tried to tug his wrist free, but Jinpachi only tightened his grip until Issei cried out with pain.

"Not this time," the redhead said grimly. "You're not running away from me this time, not until I get some answers."

"Jinpachi, you're hurting me," Issei said, tugging again at his captive wrist. He gasped when Jinpachi only squeezed tighter. "Let me go!"

"No," Jinpachi replied. "Not until you undo whatever the fuck it is you did to me. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you for as long as one minute since that night at the club. Even after I started to suspect the truth, I still wanted you. I _felt_ you projecting at me when we kissed, I just didn't realize what it was until later. You did this!"

"I didn't do anything!" Issei protested. "I swear! I didn't mean to connect to you, I couldn't shield enough to keep from reading you. The link we had when we were younger is still there, I can't do anything about it."

"You're lying, you did something to me, I _know_ you did!" Jinpachi almost shouted. "Why else would I still be fighting with everything in me not to kiss you instead of yelling at you?"

Issei's heart skipped a beat, but all he could do was lower his eyes. He had to end this now, before it got any more out of hand, or one or both of them would end up doing something they'd badly regret later. "Let me go," he commanded softly, firmly. "This is your last warning, Jinpachi. Please don't make me hurt you."

The redhead snorted. "Don't make _me_ hurt _you_. I know what you're capable of in a fight, Issei. I know you're stronger than you look, but I also know I'm better than you."

Taking a deep breath, Issei closed his eyes and deliberately opened the link between them. At the same moment he gathered the sensation of the searing pain in his wrist and _projected_ it with all his empathic strength. Just as it had with the boys who had tried to rape him years ago, it set up a feedback loop that sent the pain spiralling up out of control.

Jinpachi cried out in pain and released him, and Issei backed off out of range, slamming his shield down at the same time. The redhead was leaning against the wall, staring at Issei in pain and shock. The empath's stomach was roiling just as it had the only other time he'd ever used that aspect of his powers. It was all he could do not to be sick.

"Stay away from me," he gasped, still backing away. "Just... stay away from me!"

"Issei, _wait_!" Jinpachi called after him as he turned and ran. The redhead sounded truly miserable, but Issei didn't so much as look back. He couldn't afford to. The only thing he wanted was to find somewhere quiet and dark where he could be sick and cry to his heart's content. The last thing he heard was Jinpachi calling his name in despair, the sound of it echoing in Issei's ears.


	20. Chapter 20

Issei lay listlessly on his bed, huddled under the scant protection of the covers. He was dimly aware that he hadn’t bothered to set his alarm the night before, so the light filtering through the covers probably meant he should get up. It was Thursday, so he had classes. Or had yesterday been Thursday? He’d lost track, and he couldn’t quite bring himself to care.

A soft knock on the door interrupted his half-asleep musings, and he slowly opened his eyes. He knew who it was... none of their friends would have disturbed him if his door was closed, so it had to be Sakura.

The door opened and she stuck her head in before he could muster the energy to tell her to go away. "Issei? You awake?"

He made a muffled noise that could have been taken as either denial or assent. She moved further into the room, walking through the thin rays of sun that leaked past the blinds. There was a concerned look on her face as she bent to peer at him. "Are you feeling okay? Did you relapse from that awful flu? I told you that you should have just stayed home and rested..."

"I'm fine," he said, but his voice belied him by rasping. His throat was dry, and he hadn't spoken in a while. He'd buried himself in his room after the confrontation with Jinpachi, and refused to come out.

"Fine? Somehow I doubt it," Sakura drawled in reply, perching on the edge of his bed and reaching out to test the warmth of his forehead. He flinched away from the touch - his shields were ragged and he didn't want to be bombarded with whatever she might happen to be feeling at the moment. Her worried look turned into a frown.

"All right, what's going on?" she demanded. "It's not like you to miss even one class, let alone two day's worth! If you're not sick, then why didn't you come to class today?"

"Two day's worth?" he repeated, somewhat bemused. He shifted enough to see his clock, and sure enough, it read 4:30. Given the sun fighting to come in through his window, it had to be afternoon, not morning. Apparently he'd missed Thursday and Friday as well. He'd lose his scholarship if he kept this up.

He still didn't quite care.

He tried to burrow back into his pillow, pulling his blankets over his head again, but Sakura stopped him by hanging onto the sheets. "Oh, no you don't. Issei, what the hell is going on? What happened after you left class the other day? Did you even go to any of your other classes that day?"

"I really don't want to talk about it," he tried. It was true... he didn't want to talk about it, and had been doing his best to avoid thinking about it since it had happened. He'd always suspected that a third rejection from Jinpachi would crush him beyond repair... that it had gone beyond mere rejection into near violence only made it worse.

She regarded him for a long minute with dark, worried eyes, and he couldn't meet her gaze. "You can't just brood in here about it forever," she replied softly. "I'm going to take a wild guess and say that something probably happened with Jinpachi?" Issei nodded slightly after a moment, but he knew she didn't really need the confirmation. He'd spent far too many nights in high school crying on her shoulder over him for her not to recognize the signs.

Sighing heavily, she carefully reached out and brushed a strand of hair off his face. He allowed the contact this time, knowing she would avoid touching his skin. The affectionate gesture even earned her a weak smile. "Whatever happened, you just have to remind yourself that you did just _fine_ without him for _two whole years_. You'll get past this, too. You're strong."

"I don't feel very strong right now," he replied, but despite himself some of her determined optimism was seeping through him. There were, he reflected, occasional benefits to being an empath. It wasn't just the negative emotions he could be swayed by.

"I know. But you will," she assured him. She brushed her hand against his hair once more, then stood. "Shall I take it you're not coming out with us tonight, then?"

He shook his head, but the small smile he'd summoned for her remained on his lips. She smiled back in return. "All right, you can have the rest of the weekend in here if you need it, but I'm dragging you to class on Monday whether you like it or not!"

"Thank you, Sakura," he said, and then she was gone, slipping out the door as easily as she'd sidled in. A few minutes later he heard the front door open and close, and he knew he was alone in the apartment.

Oddly, he didn't feel like burrowing again. Sakura had forcibly dragged him out of his brooding, and he didn't want to go back to it if he could help it. He knew she was right - he needed to break this cycle with Jinpachi, and the only way he was going to do that was by getting up and not letting himself fall into his old, heartbroken patterns.

And, he admitted to himself with a grimace, a good place to start would probably be the homework he'd been ignoring for the past two days. Thankfully none of it was due any earlier than Monday, so his grades wouldn't suffer too much for his lapse.

When the phone rang half an hour later, he was so deep in a paper he was only peripherally aware of the sound. Absently he decided to let the machine get it, and went back to work, promptly forgetting all about it.

He didn't remember it until he finally took a break, just as the sun was setting. The gradually growing darkness had strained his eyes until finally he'd had to get up to turn on a light. He spotted the message light on the machine blinking, and tilted his head. It probably wasn't important - one of his friends calling to find out why he hadn't gone out that night, most likely. But then again...

He grabbed a glass of water and wandered over to it, hitting the button to make it play back the message. He nearly choked on the water when the message was in the last voice he'd expected to hear.

"Please don't hang up," his former best friend begged immediately, not even bothering with 'hello'. "I know probably neither of you wants to talk to me right now, but... I..." The redhead's voice was uncharacteristically uncertain, and Issei's hand paused over the 'erase' button.

 _Don't listen,_ he told himself harshly. _Don't, you'll regret it... just erase it and be done with him!_ But the message was already continuing, and the battle between his heart and his mind had frozen him in place.

"I just need to apologize. I really... I was really an ass, and I'm sorry, Issei. I still don't know what the hell I did to piss you off so badly in the first place, but I should have known you'd never deliberately lead me on like that. I mean... well, I have no idea what you WERE doing, but I guess... damn it, this isn't coming out right." Despite himself, Issei's lips curved in a slight smile at the sound of the frustration in Jinpachi's voice.

"Anyway, Issei, I just want to talk to you. For real, this time, I promise I'll keep my word. I'm sure the last thing you want to do is see me again, but I just... want to apologize to your face, even though that doesn't begin to make up for what I said the other day."

Issei was incredulous. After everything that had passed between them, Jinpachi thought he'd willingly face the boy again, ever?

"You weren't in class today... I guess you're avoiding me. Hell, that's an egotistic thing to think, isn't it? Maybe you don't care enough one way or the other, and you're away for another reason. But I just want to make sure it's not my fault. I don't want you to lose your scholarship because of me." Issei bit his lip. The Jinpachi he knew would never have even thought to consider himself egotistical. The redhead had changed - but not enough.

"I wanted you to know, I've applied to change schools," Jinpachi continued, and Issei was once more rooted to the spot. Change schools? In the middle of university? Was he insane? "You've worked so hard to get here, and I'm just coasting on my dad's money, so if anybody has the right to stay here, it's you. I don't want to stand in your way. You deserve better than that. So I'm going. I'll probably never see you again." Issei's heart clenched tightly at the thought, and he sternly told it to behave itself. "Like I said, I just want to see you one last time, to apologize... and say goodbye."

He heard Jinpachi take a deep breath, then the redhead added, "I'll be in the park outside the west part of campus until dark, by the fountain. If you're willing, just come, I'll be there waiting. If I don't see you... then I guess this is goodbye. Assuming you didn't delete this message before I got past the first 'please'." There was a sigh, then a loud 'click', and Issei stood staring at the machine in disbelief.

_He's changing schools... because he doesn't want to be in MY way? He's admitting he was the one at fault? And realizing that he's sometimes self-centered? The world is coming to an end..._

Either that, or he'd fallen asleep over his textbooks. He pinched himself, and winced when it hurt. Great. That meant the world really WAS coming to an end.

A slanting sunbeam crept up far enough to strike him in the face through the window, and he blinked. He glanced out the window at the setting sun automatically - then panicked. Jinpachi said he'd wait until dark, and the sun was already settled heavily on the horizon. He had to decide _right now_ whether or not he wanted to go.

Of course, the choice should have been obvious... he shouldn't set one foot out that door. Seeing Jinpachi again was the _worst_ thing he could do right now. He'd just break his heart all over again, especially if Jinpachi was actually nice to him. Right now he was just as angry as he was heartbroken - if that changed, he wasn't sure how he'd handle it.

And on top of all that, he hadn't been out of bed in two days, hadn't showered, his hair was a mess, and he wasn't wearing any makeup. There was no way in hell he was leaving the apartment in this state. An ironic smile crossed his face as he realized just how utterly feminine that thought had been.

Then again... closure was one of those things they liked to emphasize in his psych courses as being good for you. And this was probably his last chance to ever see Jinpachi again...

He was moving before he'd even finished the thought. He growled at himself for being so controlled by his heart, but he knew it was really the only thing he could do. One last glimpse, one last memory to lock away in his heart where he could treasure it decades from now. He had so many, and yet so few.

He threw on the first clothes that came to hand - a pair of loose jeans and a shell pink scooped-neck top made of soft cotton. He didn't even bother to run a brush through his hair, gathering it up in his hands and twisting it into a quick ponytail with a hairband he grabbed off his desk. He looked like a dishevelled wreck, but he didn't have time for anything more if he was going to catch Jinpachi.

It had been a long time since he'd really put any effort into staying in shape. His metabolism was naturally fast, and it wasn't since he'd studied martial arts with Jinpachi that he'd really done any sort of exercising. As a result he was badly out of breath by the time he reached the entrance to the park, and it had taken him longer to get there than he'd expected. It was already dark; the streetlights were coming on one by one, and there weren't many people on the paths of the small park.

Heart beating in his throat, he made his way to the fountain. Would Jinpachi still be there? Had he stayed late? Had he left early? Had he even really come at all?

Issei rounded the corner, and stopped short. Before him, the fountain arc up twenty feet in the air, the water lit from below by coloured lights submerged in the fountain. The play of the water almost hid the shadowed figure sitting on the edge, but Issei didn't need to see him to know who it was. He could feel the faint brush against his shields, his heart, that was Jinpachi's soul trying to connect to his on a level neither of them had ever been able to control.


	21. Chapter 21

For a long moment Issei stood at the edge of the fountain area, watching Jinpachi's still form. The other boy wasn't moving, in fact Issei wasn't entirely certain he was actually awake. There was a despondent slump to his shoulders, as if he were disappointed by something.

Issei wanted nothing so much as to step up and smooth away the lines that undoubtedly creased his friend's brow, to assure him that everything was fine and they could be happy together. Except that wasn't really what Jinpachi wanted, he knew. The redhead wanted to apologize, so he could stop feeling guilty about the way he'd treated Issei, perhaps, but that didn't mean he wanted anything more.

He took a hesitant step forward and Jinpachi looked up. Issei was startled by the oddly fragile look on his old friend's face. He'd never seen the redhead look so... vulnerable.

"You came," Jinpachi murmured, standing. Thankfully for Issei's nerves, he made no move to get closer, just stood there looking back at him. "I was starting to think you wouldn't."

"I was studying. I just got your message," Issei admitted. "I almost didn't bother."

He could see that Jinpachi wanted to know why he _had_ shown up, but apparently the redhead wasn't going to ask. That was fine with Issei.

"I didn't expect you to show up like this," Jinpachi said after a moment of awkward silence between them. Issei flushed, at first thinking his friend meant his rumpled appearance, before he realized what the redhead actually meant.

"Dressed like a girl, you mean?" Issei asked, just to clarify. He spared a moment to be grateful that there weren't many people nearby at the moment. "This is the way I always dress." Mindful of keeping his secret, he edged a little closer and lowered his voice a bit. "I haven't dressed as a boy since the day I found out I got the scholarship."

"So then, it really didn't have anything to do with me?" Jinpachi asked, and Issei shook his head. "Then why? Has Enju really got that strong a hold on you?"

"It has nothing to do with Enju, specifically," Issei replied. "It has to do with the fact that I have a female soul. I never should have asked to be reincarnated male." The knowledge that he'd done so only in an attempt to be closer to Gyokuran's current incarnation hung between them, choking the air.

"You're really... happier this way?" Jinpachi asked, and Issei's eyes softened.

"For the first time in a long time, I don't flinch whenever I look at myself in a mirror, Jinpachi," he answered. "I don't feel like I'm being strangled by my own skin. Happy? I don't know about that. I just know that this is the only way I could stay _sane_."

"Fair enough," Jinpachi replied. The silence stretched out between them, awkward in a way that had never happened when they were friends.

"Were you really serious about changing schools?" Issei asked abruptly. Jinpachi blinked, then shrugged.

"Yeah. It's not fair to you for me to stay. I dunno what's going on between us these days - hell, I haven't understood our relationship since the day you... you k-kissed me that first time." The redhead flushed a dull red shade that Issei knew was probably echoed in his own cheeks. "But it's relatively easy for me to switch - I already checked with my dad. He's a little bewildered, but he said okay, as long as I bring my grades up at least five percent in the new school."

Issei gave a reluctant smile at the look of distaste on Jinpachi's face. The redhead must have done reasonably well in high school to get into a university at all, and his grades couldn't be that bad now if he was confident of being accepted to a different school, but studying had never been high on Jinpachi's list of favourite activities.

"You don't seem as convinced that I'm manipulating you," he pointed out, and Jinpachi's flush increased.

"Take it as a compliment, I guess. You, uh... you make a really pretty girl." Issei ducked his head at that, both astonished and pleased at the unusual praise. Jinpachi continued, "I was just so sure that I couldn't really still be... I mean, I _knew_ you were a guy, but... well, my mental picture of you as Isako was pretty strong, and... _argh_."

Issei couldn't help it - he laughed. Jinpachi was unexpectedly adorable when he was this flustered. "Well, now you know how I felt back in high school, when nothing I did would shake the way Enju's love for Gyokuran was leaking into my feelings about you," he replied, somewhat unsympathetically.

"Yeah, I know," Jinpachi said. There was a hint of sympathy in his voice that had never been present before, and it startled Issei again. Well, maybe this whole mess had one positive aspect, if Jinpachi was starting to be a little more tolerant.

"Listen, Issei... uh, I guess I should call you Isako?" Jinpachi interrupted himself, getting sidetracked. Issei smiled slightly.

"I still think of myself as Issei to a certain extent, and Sakura calls me that in private, but for the most part it's better that you stick to Isako," he murmured. "That way you won't make a mistake when other people are around." He winced at the very thought. "I... I don't think I want to know what will happen if the truth got around."

"Yeah, it probably wouldn't be pretty," Jinpachi agreed, frowning. "I mean, I reacted badly, and I _know_ you. But," he tilted his head, curious. "How do you keep it from, you know, your boyfriends and stuff? You're not... you didn't..." his eyes got very wide.

It took a moment for Issei to realize what he was getting at, and then his face flamed. "No, I haven't gone that far," he all but squeaked, shaking his head. Moving closer to the fountain, though not closer to Jinpachi, he perched on the edge, feeling the spray misting against his back. "I doubt I ever will. Dressing and acting as a girl is one thing; only society's arbitrary rules dictate what is 'proper' for males and females. But to actually disfigure the body Sarjareem gave me... well, that seems too much like sacrilege."

"I guess I can understand that," Jinpachi agreed, sitting as well. They faced each other over a short arc of water, out of reach and yet close enough to make them both uncomfortable, for different reasons. "So, how _do_ you keep it from your boyfriends?"

Issei gave a soft laugh, which had little of mirth in it and a great deal of old pain and sadness. "You still don't get it, do you? Do you think I would have let myself get anywhere near you if I'd had any choice? If I had ever gotten over you?"

Looking somewhat stunned, Jinpachi stared at him. "You mean... you still... there's never been anybody but me?"

With a soft sigh, Issei shook his head. "I tried briefly, with Sakura. I thought I could use my empathy to feed off her feelings for me, and pretend, and it would be good enough. But it wasn't fair to either of us, in the end. And no, there's never been anyone else." He shrugged. "Even if I _was_ interested, it's not worth the danger of them finding out my secret."

Eyeing the flush on his first love's face, he added gently, "Does it upset you? To know that I still feel that way?"

"A little," Jinpachi admitted bluntly, rubbing the back of his head with one hand. "And it's a little flattering, I guess. Sure as hell I've never had a girl that devoted to me." After a brief hesitation, he added, "It's a shame, though. You deserve better than that. And you'd make someone a really great - well, girlfriend, I guess, if you could find someone who could get past the fact that you're not a girl. There's gotta be someone out there like that."

Looking at him, Issei thought it might be wise not to comment that there was still the problem of the fact that he didn't _want_ anyone but Jinpachi. That was his own fault, and he'd already resigned himself to the fact that he was going to spend at least one more lifetime alone.

Deciding it was time to change the subject, he asked, "What where you going to say, before you got sidetracked by my name?"

"Oh yeah!" Jinpachi shook his head, as if to clear it. "I wanted to ask you... especially now, with what you just said... _why_ did you get so angry at me, back in high school?" He gave Issei a genuinely bewildered look. "First you vanished on me, then you slapped me when I found you again - I know I'd been kinda distant to you since that day on the roof, but what the hell did I do to piss you off so much?

Issei couldn't help but stare. "You still don't know? After all this time, you still haven't figured it out?" Jinpachi shook his head, and Issei raked a hand through his hair, giving him a disbelieving look. "All right. If you really want to know what you did that upset me so much, I'll tell you. You hung up on me."

"Huh?" Jinpachi looked blank. "What are you talking about? When? And why would that make you so angry?"

"Jinpachi..." Issei didn't know whether to cry or hit him. He settled on a frustrated laugh. He loved the boy, but dearest Sarjareem he could be _dense_ at times! "I know you have a brain, I've seen you use it given enough provocation," he murmured, earning him a dirty look from the other boy. "Think, for just a moment, will you? What started this whole thing?"

"You vanished on me," Jinpachi replied promptly. "You just didn't show up for school one day. I thought you were just sick, but then you _still_ didn't show up, and then they stopped calling your name for attendance." He made a frustrated noise. "I tried asking your sister, but she was avoiding me. I tried calling your parents, but they just hung up on me! I even went and asked Alice and Rin and Haru if they'd heard from you, but they didn't know what was going on, either."

"Wait, wait," Issei broke in, holding his hands up in an effort to stem the sudden flow of increasingly angry words. "Back up. What happened right before that?"

"Before you disappeared?" Jinpachi blinked, broken out of what was probably a years-old rut in his thinking. "Well... you called me the night before, and you said you'd talk to me in school the next day, which is why I thought it was weird when you didn't show up. Is that what you mean, 'I hung up on you'?"

"I didn't say I'd talk to you the next day, Jinpachi," Issei corrected him quietly. "I didn't say a single word except your name. You made that assumption, and then you hung up on me."

He could see his friend struggling to recall the conversation, to remember if it had gone the way Issei said, but it had been too long ago. Finally the redhead gave up with a small frustrated noise. "Well, if you needed to talk to me right then, why didn't you _say_ something before I hung up?"

"Because I wasn't able to say much of anything," Issei told him, his voice still quiet. "It's a minor miracle I got your name out coherently. I had a broken jaw, Jinpachi. I was calling you for _help_." He saw his friend's eyes go wide with horror. The words poured out of him now, much as Jinpachi's tirade had a moment before, and he didn't even try to stem the flow. This was a hurt he'd been sitting on for too long - maybe if he got it out in the open, he'd finally be able to deal with it.

"In all this time, it never _once_ occurred to you to wonder why I would call you out of the blue, late at night, when we'd barely spoken in months?" he asked, voice still quiet but now full of old pain. "You never once wondered if that phone call _might_ have had anything to do with the reason I vanished the next day?"

"Issei, I..." Jinpachi tried to stop him, but Issei continued right over top of him.

"My father had just beaten the shit out of me and physically thrown me out of my house, Jinpachi," he said, each world deliberate and painful. "The only reason I even had my phone was because my sister snuck it out to me, along with some other things. I had a broken jaw, broken ribs, and I was crying too hard to breathe. I was _scared_ , and lost, and hurt, and just when I needed you most you _hung up on me_."

Aware that he was starting to sound a little hysterical, he clamped his jaw shut and just focused on his breathing. He was startled to feel tears prickle at the corners of his eyes, and he fought them back, horrified. The last thing he needed to do now was break down crying in front of Jinpachi. _Here I am, acting like a girl again,_ he thought wryly, and the memory of the last time Jinpachi had accused him of that almost broke him.

"Issei? Issei, I'm sorry, please don't cry." He wasn't even aware Jinpachi had moved closer until he felt the hesitant hand come to rest on his shoulder. Try not to sniffle, he glanced up to see the redhead hovering over him as if he was uncertain of his welcome. Which, Issei admitted to himself, he had reason to be.

"Damn it," he muttered, swiping irritably at one watering eye with the back of his hand. "I promised myself I wasn't going to get emotional."

Jinpachi's lips twitched, and he relaxed a little since Issei hadn't used the hand to hit him instead. "I'd say you're acting like a girl, but I don't want to get slapped again. And it seems a little redundant at this point, anyway." His voice was light, obviously teasing rather than accusing, and Issei surprised both of them by laughing softly.

"I'm sorry I slapped you," Issei admitted. "If it had been any other day, I'd probably have been more reasonable, but you caught me at a _very_ bad moment. I was already mostly hysterical."

"I thought it was just more of whatever it was that was making you avoid me in the first place," Jinpachi admitted. "Issei... at the risk of getting you upset again, you can't blame me for not knowing there was something wrong. You didn't _say_ anything, and you're the mind-reader, not me. How could I have known?"

"Sakura did," Issei replied quietly. "With no more information than you had, except that I called her Shusuran by accident. She could tell just by the tone of my voice that something was wrong, and she dropped what she was doing and told me to meet her at her house. Of course," he smiled slightly, "she thought it was just another heartbreak over you, as usual. When she realized I was actually _injured_ , she hustled me off to the hospital, and then talked her parents into letting me live with them."

They were both silent for a moment as Jinpachi absorbed that, his head bowed. Finally the redhead sighed. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I guess we'd grown so apart by then, I just wasn't able to tell with so little information. I wasn't ever really a very good friend to you, after you... after that day, was I?"

"We were already growing apart by the time I kissed you," Issei corrected him. "It really started the day we first dreamed about Enju and Gyokuran sleeping together." Shaking his head, he forced himself to admit, "It wasn't fair of me to force that on you, either. I suppose... I could see our friendship slipping away already, and there was a part of me that was so desperate to believe you could feel that way too..."

The hand on his shoulder squeezed gently. "So we were both at fault," Jinpachi said. "I guess... that's what growing up is really all about, isn't it? Being able to admit that it's not all everyone else's fault."

"Part of it," Issei agreed. A guilty part of him was revelling in the feel of that large, strong hand on him, no matter how much he ordered himself to just ignore it. To get his mind off it, he asked, "So now what? It doesn't seem fair to make you leave the school."

"I don't really want to leave," Jinpachi told him. "I just don't want to make things harder for you. And..." He trailed off and shook his head, as if thinking better of what he'd wanted to say.

Issei caught some of it, though. Jinpachi wasn't touching his skin, but their connection was strong enough that at this distance, he didn't need to be for Issei to read him. "And I make you uncomfortable, like this," he finished for him, gesturing down at his appearance. "Don't I?"

"Well, yeah," Jinpachi admitted awkwardly, withdrawing his hand. Issei felt the loss of warmth like a sharp sting, but did his best to ignore it. "Even sitting here, talking to you about the old days... it's hard to see you as a guy. You _sound_ like a damn girl."

Issei's lips quirked in a half smile. "I worked hard at that," he murmured. "I already moved and talked like one, but learning to _sound_ like one was the hardest part."

"Yeah, so... it's hard to see you as anything but a girl," Jinpachi informed him, almost gruffly. "And damn it, if you _were_ a girl, I'd ask you out in a heartbeat. In fact, I already did that, didn't I?" He raked a hand through his hair, mussing it. "You were my best friend for a reason, Issei. I _liked_ being around you. I hated that things got awkward between us and I lost your friendship. And it just about killed me when I thought you'd deliberately vanished on me and didn't want to talk to me any more."

Biting his lip, Issei tried not to cry again. His heart was squeezing painfully. So close to the words he'd wanted to hear for _so_ long... but not quite right. What he wanted to hear didn't have a condition on it. _If you were a girl..._

"I am what I am," he said simply.

"I know," Jinpachi replied, just as simply. "D'you ever wonder how many incarnations we've gone through, screwing this up?" he asked suddenly. "I mean, we only remember the last life, but do you ever think about how many others there might have been?"

"I try not to," Issei said dryly. "It's kind of depressing. I'd like to think that we learn our lessons fairly quickly. Maybe we'll get it right next time around."

"Or maybe we'll just make the same damn mistakes again," Jinpachi said in disgust. "We're really hopeless, aren't we? Chasing after what we can't have, wanting things we shouldn't... isn't there any way to break the cycle?"

Issei couldn't look at him. If he met Jinpachi's eyes, he knew he'd say something stupid, like 'You could always start now...'. Maybe, if he hadn't been so stupid and asked Sarjareem to make him male, they could have gotten it right this time around. But he had, and so there was nothing to do but wait for the next round.

"Issei..." Something about the hesitant way Jinpachi said his name made Issei look up, wide-eyed. The redhead was giving him the oddest look. "Maybe... maybe it's not too late to fix things in this incarnation?" he asked more than said.

"Wh-what do you mean?" Issei stuttered, certain he'd misunderstood. Surely Jinpachi couldn't be implying what he thought.

He swallowed hard as the redhead lifted his hand again, and touched his cheek this time rather than his shoulder. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since that night in the club," Jinpachi said, his voice gruff. "I keep telling myself I'll get over it when it finally sinks in that you're not a girl, but damn it, you're driving me nuts."

Issei was shaking, struggling to keep his heart calm. It wasn't working very well. "You will get over it when it sinks in," he said, his voice almost as rough as Jinpachi's, but for different reasons. "And I don't think I can take another rejection from you. It's worse each time." It took a deliberate effort of will, but he managed to move back so they weren't touching any more.

It was only with the sudden loss of skin contact that he realized how much of the roiling emotions he'd been battling weren't actually _his_. He drew a deep breath, staring at Jinpachi in wide-eyed surprise. "You really do want me that badly, don't you?" he exclaimed softly. "Or rather, you want _her_. Isako. The girl I look like."

"The girl you look like, who has your personality and who knows me better than anybody else on the face of the planet," Jinpachi returned, his voice almost bitter. "Who's seen me at my absolute worst, and who still loves me, even years later. Even two _lifetimes_ later. I'll never find something that real with someone else, ever. Damn it, it's not fair!"

"No relationship is perfect," Issei offered with a bitter smile of his own. "The flaw in ours is just a little more overwhelming than most."

"I don't want to spend a whole damn lifetime alone, just waiting for the next time around," Jinpachi said in frustration, echoing the feelings Issei had been harbouring in his heart for years. "And maybe I will find someone else some day, but it won't ever be the same. It won't ever be as good. They won't _know_ me, not the way you do."

In that moment, Issei almost regretted his decision to remain physically male. The operations they had now could turn a male into such a close approximation to a natural female, even a doctor wouldn't be able to tell the difference with only an ordinary examination. But he couldn't shake the feeling that it would be going too far.

"We don't have a choice," he replied instead. "This is what we have to deal with. I'm male, and as long as I won't change that and you can't accept it, then we can't be together."

"Can't we at least try it before we give up on it?" Jinpachi asked, a little desperately. "We'll never know if we don't try, right? I _am_ attracted to you, as you are now. I'm not saying it doesn't freak me out a little, but not as much as it used to."

"As long as you could pretend I was a girl, it would work. But the moment you're reminded what I really am, you'd be scared off," Issei said, speaking from experience. It wasn't that different from what he'd tried to do with Sakura. _Except Jinpachi_ does _have feelings for you,_ the traitorous part of his mind whispered. _Is it really that inconceivable that you might be able to take what he already feels and gradually accustom him to the rest of who you are?_

Jinpachi's fists were clenched on his thighs, his expression determined. "I'm not willing to give up that easily," he declared. "Maybe that's true, but maybe I've grown up and gotten a little less intolerant than I was when I was in high school. If I do have to spend the rest of this life alone, I don't want to also have to wonder if things could have been different."

"And so you'll break my heart again, instead," Issei replied. "I truly don't know if I can handle it again and still survive, Jinpachi. It hurts more every time."

"One kiss," Jinpachi demanded. "One kiss, and you read me and tell me if there's any chance or not. I'll believe you if you say what I'm feeling is only surface deep. But I don't think it is."

 _One kiss, and I'll only be reading what I_ want _to see,_ Issei knew. But his heart betrayed him, and he heard himself answer, "All right."

Warm, firm lips sealed over his before he'd even finished the second word, as if Jinpachi were afraid he'd change his mind. Issei was immediately drowning in sensation, both the physical pleasure of his friend's rather expert kiss, and the psychic onslaught of emotions through his empathy. That Jinpachi wanted him, he had no doubt; how could he doubt it, when he could feel the lust and desire in his friend first hand?

No, the question was whether the desire would continue when the illusion of Issei's femininity was forcibly shattered.

It was so hard to concentrate through the pleasure, but Issei did his best. He probed deep, deeper than perhaps he'd ever been in anyone else's mind. He didn't find an end to Jinpachi's desire for him, but he also couldn't tell how much was aimed only at his female appearance, and how much might even be projection from Issei himself.

There was only one way to find out. Trying very hard not to think about what he was doing, Issei reached up and wrapped slender fingers around one of the strong hands that had come to rest on his shoulders, holding him in place. Jinpachi willingly let him move one hand down over Issei's body. He hesitated briefly when their tangled fingers encountered the soft mass of Issei's bra; it looked realistic, but didn't quite feel real.

Still, there was no sign of a flinch from the boy kissing him. So Issei went one step further, pulling Jinpachi's hand down to his lap, until the other boy couldn't help but be aware of the very obvious evidence that Issei was anything but a girl.

For one burning instant, Issei thought he might be swept away by the sudden incandescence of Jinpachi's emotions. There was pride there; the smug male pride of a man who has driven his partner that far into desire. There was lust, too, the heat of desire prickling his skin, so strong it was almost physical. And, just for a moment, Jinpachi's fingers voluntarily closed over the aching bulge under his clothes.

Then the redhead jerked back, panting, pulling his hand away like he was the one who was burned. There was a deep sense of loss and despair in his beautiful eyes, as well as intense frustration. "Damn it!" Jinpachi exclaimed, running a shaking hand through his hair. "Ah, hell. I honestly thought it was working. But I just... it was just too much."

Too much, yes... too much for the sense of horror that had been drilled into Jinpachi from birth by their prurient society. Too much for his long-held conviction that he was entirely straight. Too much, in the end, for his mind.

But not too much for his body, as Issei now knew very well. He'd felt that moment of primitive, instinctive lust, before higher reasoning and decades of conditioning had kicked in. Many men weren't nearly as straight as they'd like to believe, he knew from his classes. Most buried it so deeply they were never even aware of it. But maybe, with determination and the help of an equally determined empath, all that deeply held social conditioning could be circumvented.

"Jinpachi," he said, his voice breathy with the desire that was still coursing through his system. His friend looked at him, probably wondering why Issei didn't seem more upset. Smiling sweetly at the flustered redhead, Issei told him, "I'm willing to try if you are."


	22. Chapter 22

It was a nice restaurant, the kind Issei didn't really get to eat in much any more. Sakura dragged him out for dinner whenever she could get away with it, but Issei stubbornly limited it to special occasions like birthdays or the end of exams. He already owed her and her family so much, he didn't want to take any more charity from them.

It wasn't Sakura who was with him tonight, though. He gazed across the table, still unable to really believe he was here, living out one of his fondest fantasies. Well, the g-rated ones, anyway. He blushed, ducking his head in what had become an automatic reaction to try to hide his flush behind his hair. Today his hair was up though, pulled back in a complicated arrangement of loops and whirls. He'd been a bit nervous about having it all off his face, worrying that it might remind his date of who - and more importantly, what - he really was, but he had to admit the image in the mirror had looked breathtaking when Sakura was done with him.

Across from him, Jinpachi raised an eyebrow. "You're blushing again," he noted with a hint of amusement in his voice. "You never used to do that around me. Well, not this much," he amended when Issei gave him a disbelieving look. Issei had to laugh.

"I just can't believe this is really happening," he admitted. Nervously he reached out to pick up his wine glass, taking a small sip to help clear the dryness in his throat. He was very tempted to drink more than that, but the last thing he wanted was for the magic of this dream-come-true to be lost in the haze of alcohol.

"You and me both," Jinpachi said, his grin turning a bit crooked. "It's kind of unreal. You look really great tonight," he added abruptly, with a faint flush of his own as he looked away. "I don't know if I mentioned that earlier."

"Thank you," Issei replied softly, thrilled. He could sense that his old friend was still feeling a bit conflicted about everything; he was picking up a general sense of nerves and an odd feeling at complimenting his male best friend for how he looked in a skirt and makeup.

"Jinpachi, stop worrying," he said, guessing at part of the source of the redhead's stress. "In the two years since I started this, nobody but you has ever realized the truth. And even you took weeks, despite having known me so well before!"

The flush on Jinpachi's cheeks increased, and he laughed ruefully. "Am I that obvious? Sorry, Is- Isako. I keep thinking they're going to come throw us out for being..." he made a gesture, low enough to the table that only Issei would see it, and the empath stifled a laugh as he recognized it as the sign you thought someone was 'that way'.

"It's not that obvious to anyone but me," he assured the other boy. "And not just because I know you so well. Because really, I don't. Not anymore. We've both changed a lot since we parted in high school."

"I guess I really ought to know better than to try to hide anything emotional from you, shouldn't I?" Jinpachi sighed. "I _want_ to get to know you that well again, damn it. That's the whole point of this, isn't it? But I'm probably ruining it for you, being so nervous..."

"Not at all!" Issei broke in, wide-eyed. "Jinpachi, believe me, I'm as nervous as you are! I mean, I suppose a certain amount of nerves is natural for a couple on their first real date, but this..." he gestured to encompass both of them, and somehow made the gesture include the weight of history that lay between them as well. "This is huge, for both of us." His voice softened. "Neither of us wants to screw this up, that's all."

"And we won't," Jinpachi concluded firmly, looking back and catching Issei's eyes with his determined gaze. "Not this time. I'm not going through another lifetime of this, damn it. We're going to get it right this time if it kills us."

Laughing again, Issei reached out across the snowy white linen of the tablecloth, and Jinpachi caught his hand. In an odd way the caress was a reminder of what stood between them; Issei's hands were delicate for a boy's, delicate enough to pass for a girl's, but Jinpachi's hand didn't dwarf his as he would have most girls.

The comparison didn't seem to bother the redhead however, as he gently stroked the back of Issei's hand with his thumb. Issei shivered, both at the caress and the fact that the skin contact let him feel some of the desire Jinpachi was feeling. Desire for the apparent woman he saw, true, but deep under that was still the knowledge that Issei wasn't what he seemed.

"It's a wonderful dinner," Issei said, more to break the intense silence that had fallen between them than anything else. "I hope I'm not breaking your pocketbook, though."

"Hardly," Jinpachi laughed. "As long as I keep my grades up at an acceptable level, my dad gives me spending money as well as living money. I wouldn't want to do this _every_ night, but..." his voice lowered in a way that made Issei shiver, "I wanted to do this right. I wanted it to be special."

"It is," Issei told him, an ache of long unfulfilled dreams echoing in his voice. "Oh, believe me, it is. How could it be anything else?" he smiled into the eyes of the only man he would ever truly love. "You're here with me."

"And you are going to drown me in sugar if you keep that up," Jinpachi commented as he caressed Issei's hand one last time and pulled away slightly. Issei couldn't help but snicker.

"Honestly, Jinpachi, why must you be such a _boy_?" he teased gently, paraphrasing the words his friend had tossed in his face at Sakura's house. Truly, it only confirmed to him that he'd made the right choice with his lifestyle, Issei reflected. He'd never understand why most males seemed to avoid emotional discussions like the plague. How did they ever get anything sorted out?

"Well, one of us has to be," Jinpachi muttered in embarrassment, making Issei laugh again. "Not to rush you, but are you almost done? I wanted to treat you to dessert, I know your sweet tooth, but if we don't leave soon we'll be late for the show."

Issei glanced down at the remains of the rich dinner he'd consumed, and shook his head. "I don't think I could eat another bite, no matter how tempting the desert," he admitted. "I'll just have to hold you to it for another day, I suppose. We can go now if you'd like."

Nodding, Jinpachi signaled a nearby waiter, who shortly brought over their bill. Issei felt slightly guilty making his date pay for everything despite Jinpachi's earlier assurances, but it wasn't like he could afford it even if he _wanted_ to pay for his half. And he sensed that, in his own way, Jinpachi was trying hard to make up for his past insensitivity by making things as perfect for Issei as he could.

The gesture was appreciated, although there were a few more modern 'traditions' he'd have liked _not_ to pass up. "You know," he said as Jinpachi helped him into his light jacket, "in this enlightened day and age it's generally considered polite for the boy to at least consult his date about what movie to see." His voice made it clear that he was more amused than annoyed, however.

"Hey, I've always maintained that if the boy is paying for everything, he has the right not to end up suffering through a chick flick," Jinpachi protested, taking his hand as he led the way to the outside doors. "Which, in my experience at least, is inevitably the result if the girl gets any input." As Issei chuckled at the truth of that, he added softly, "Anyway, I wanted to surprise you."

"I know everything that's playing in theatres right now, Jinpachi," Issei reminded him as they stepped out into the brisk night air. It was still early enough in the year that though the days were warm, once the sun went down there was a bite in the air. Without prompting, Jinpachi draped his arm around Issei's waist and pulled the smaller boy in close to him, offering his own body warmth. Issei basked in the contact and the resulting stronger connection between them. "Since you've ruled out 'chick flicks' and you know I can't stand the audience reactions to violent or horror movies, that doesn't leave much in the way of possibilities."

Jinpachi just smiled at him in a slightly superior way, and Issei got the distinct sense that his date was hiding something and feeling rather smug about it. He raised an eyebrow. "All right, what have you got up your sleeve?" he asked, long familiarity with Jinpachi's sense of humour making him faintly apprehensive. He stretched out along their connection, trying to pick up more details, but to his surprise Jinpachi was blocking him.

"You're not the only one who's learned a bit more about esper abilities," Jinpachi told him when he saw Issei's startled look. "You're primarily an empath, after all. I can block you from my thoughts if I'm really trying, though I admit I can't keep it up for long. But it'll be long enough."

"I'm not sure whether to be impressed or just nervous," Issei murmured, smiling to take the bite out of his words. Jinpachi startled him by leaning down to kiss him briefly. It wasn't even enough contact to smudge what remained of Issei's lipstick after eating, but that he'd done it out in plain sight on a public street thrilled Issei.

"It's nothing you'll hate, I promise," Jinpachi swore, turning to flag down one of the taxis that passed by the restaurant every so often. "At least, I certainly hope not!"

Now thoroughly curious, Issei allowed himself to be helped into the cab. Jinpachi slid in next to him, closer than was strictly necessary in the roomy backseat, but Issei wasn't complaining. He was again surprised when, instead of giving verbal instructions Jinpachi leaned forward to hand a slip of paper on it to the driver. The man took it, glanced at it, then nodded and put the car in drive again.

"Where are we going?" Issei asked, now wide-eyed at how far Jinpachi was going to keep him from finding out. "Why all the secrecy?"

"You'll see," was all his date would say, and Jinpachi was clearly enjoying being able to keep it secret. Issei sat there with his hand in Jinpachi's, watching out the windows in a futile attempt to figure it out.

The area the restaurant was in was one he wasn't familiar with, and the cab headed farther away from the school rather than back towards it as he'd expected. "Close your eyes," Jinpachi instructed, leaning in to whisper the words directly into Issei's ear.

That earned him a slightly nervous look, and he laughed. "What, you don't trust me?" Issei might not have been able to read Jinpachi's actual thoughts, but no amount of shielding could stop him from picking up the faint hurt that was present behind the redhead's easy laughter.

Obediently he closed his eyes, sensing the hurt turn into a pleased anticipation. He shivered as Jinpachi took the opportunity to trace his lips over the shell of Issei's ear. "Not fair," he complained softly, but the breathiness in his voice betrayed him.

Nevertheless Jinpachi pulled back, much to Issei's disappointment. The rest of the short ride passed in silence, and Issei resisted the temptation to 'peek' by stealing glimpses of where they were through the minds of those around them.

Finally the car came to a stop. "Keep them closed," Jinpachi ordered, as he carefully helped Issei from the car. Issei stumbled a little when one of his low heels caught the curb, but Jinpachi caught him securely and lifted him clear.

He heard the car leave, and his date took him by one shoulder and gently guided him to turn. Issei had raised his hand to his face to avoid inadvertently opening his eyes, and Jinpachi tugged on his elbow. "Okay, you can look now."

Totally bewildered at this point, expecting perhaps to see a really _nice_ movie theatre of some kind, Issei gasped when he saw they were in front of a concert hall. He turned to Jinpachi with huge eyes and an utterly confused expression, unable to find his voice. The redhead laughed and grinned at him.

"Told you it was a surprise," he said, taking his hand and tugging him forward. "See? I'm not always such a _boy_ ," he imitated Issei's earlier tone perfectly. "I know you like music and stuff like that, so..."

Issei cut him off by turning and flinging himself into the taller boy's arms, kissing him hard. He felt waves of astonishment and disapproval from the many people entering the hall around them, but for once he totally ignored what anyone else thought of his actions. "Thank you," he whispered when he pulled away. "It's an amazing surprise. Though I certainly hope you don't feel you have to try _this_ hard for _all_ our dates, or you won't be able to afford to take me out very often!"

"No, just this time," Jinpachi admitted, a little bemused but perfectly willing to hold Issei in return. "I told you, I want this to be special."

"It is," Issei assured him, grey eyes sparkling. "It really, really is. Come on, hurry, I don't want to miss anything!"

Somehow he wasn't even surprised when their tickets turned out to be for a private box. It was the smallest and most distant from the stage, true, but it was still a box of their own. At this point the whole thing felt like a dream, so of course every detail was perfect. Issei just hoped with all his heart that he would never wake up.

The music featured a relatively famous flautist from Europe who was doing a tour of Asia, accompanied by the local orchestra. It was pure magic and Issei sat enraptured all through the first half, on the edge of his seat and unable to tear his eyes from the stage. The intermission seemed hardly more than ten minutes after it had started, and his chest ached as if he hadn't taken a breath through the whole thing.

For him, music of this quality and with this receptive an audience was far more than just an auditory experience. The emotions raised in the people around him by the masterful interpretation of equally masterful music were like a highly intoxicating wind blowing around and through him. He was swept up in it, his own emotions drowning in the rising gale.

He turned to share his excitement with Jinpachi, and burst out laughing instead as he saw that his date was hardly even paying attention to the stage. He'd been so caught up in the music and the response of the audience that he hadn't even sensed how bored Jinpachi was. His laughter startled the other boy, and earned him a sheepish look.

"I always knew your fascination with Mokuren's singing had nothing to do with her musical ability," he teased, and was gratified when Jinpachi flushed. "I'm sorry you're so bored, though."

"It's okay," Jinpachi said, reaching out to take his hand again. "I was watching you, that's a hell of a lot more entertaining than what's on stage." Now it was Issei's turn to blush, and he decided it was time to put the first part of his plan into effect.

He leaned forward until his lips were just brushing against Jinpachi's, and whispered, "It means a lot to me that you'd do this for me. Thank you." Then he kissed him, deeply and passionately, much like they'd kissed that night on the dance floor. This time there was nobody who could see them to disapprove, and really a certain amount of this sort of thing was probably expected from couples in the private boxes, he thought in amusement.

Jinpachi didn't hesitate to respond, his strong hand coming up to cup at the back of Issei's neck and pull him closer. Issei allowed it, shifting the rest of his body closer as well so he could rub gently against the redhead. At the same time he opened the channel between them, letting Jinpachi share his thrill and wonder at the music, as well as his building desire.

"Damn, that's addictive," Jinpachi murmured, pulling away briefly to let him look at Issei with bright eyes. "Iss..."

But Issei hushed him by kissing him again, putting his heart and soul into it. He'd spent days thinking about this since they'd kissed at the fountain, and he'd finally decided that the best way to get Jinpachi over his deeply ingrained homophobia was to work the other boy up to the point where he didn't care what sex his partner was. Not all at once, but slowly over many encounters, by teasing him and drawing it out and then refusing to fulfill the implicit promise in his teasing.

Ordinarily Issei thought very little of girls who pulled that sort of thing, but he was willing to do a lot of things he looked down on if it meant he could truly be with Jinpachi in the end. They _had_ to get Jinpachi to a point where he was comfortable being with Issei as a male, or this was only going to end in frustration and heartbreak for both of them. And this was the only way Issei could think of to do it.

When Jinpachi's hand slid up from his waist towards his bra, Issei caught it and gently but firmly guided it back down to the middle region again. "Uh-uh, nothing that isn't the same on boys and girls," he murmured in explanation to Jinpachi's disappointed noise.

"I thought you wouldn't want me to forget that you weren't a girl?" Jinpachi whispered back in confusion. Issei shook his head.

"I don't, but I also don't want you to end up shocking yourself out of enjoying this too early," he replied. "We'll work up to it, don't worry." He went back to distracting the other boy by kissing him, increasing the link between them so Jinpachi could feel how much he too ached to have the redhead run his hands all over Issei's body.

Jinpachi groaned and moved to pull him onto his lap, but at that moment the house lights went down again and there was a rustle from the stage and orchestra pit. Smiling in the way of any girl who knows she's teasing her guy almost past endurance, Issei pulled away and sat primly in his chair, the only contact between them now their linked hands.

Sighing, Jinpachi sat back to be bored for another hour, but the first wash of emotion shocked him into sitting upright again. At Issei's soft laugh he glanced over, clearly confused.

"I haven't closed the link," Issei whispered to him. "You're getting what I am, a bit diluted. I want you to see why I love the music so much, and what other people see in it. And," he added with another laugh, "I want you to stay awake!"

With that Issei turned his attention back to the stage, and lost himself in the magic once again. He could feel Jinpachi right there with him this time, and everything that came back to him through their link was tinged with a sense of awe and wonder. It was clear that Jinpachi had never before understood why people could be so fascinated with music, and Issei was pleased to be able to give him such an amazing experience in return for the wonderful night.

Especially considering what he was planning to ask of the other boy at the end of this night. When the music was over, while the wash of overwhelming emotions was still on them from the finale, Issei turned and once again kissed Jinpachi fiercely. Now equally high on the magic of the music, Jinpachi kissed him back, and Issei could feel what an effort it was for the redhead to keep his hands where he'd been told to.

Shamelessly he ran his own hands over Jinpachi's chest, slipping the tips of his fingers through the spaces between the buttons on his shirt to brush against bare skin. Each fleeting touch enflamed them both, the link between them acting almost like a feedback loop. When Issei finally pulled away, they were both gasping with pure need.

"I want you to promise me something," he asked softly, leaning his forehead against Jinpachi's and wrapping his arms around the redhead's neck. He realized, somewhat to his embarrassment, that at some point he'd ended up straddling Jinpachi's lap with his skirt hiked up to his thighs and Jinpachi's hands on his ass. Clearing his throat, he shifted back a bit before Jinpachi could consciously realize what the bulge being pressed against him was.

"Anything," Jinpachi promised recklessly, lost in the whirlwind of emotions Issei had deliberately raised between them.

"I want you to promise me that..." Issei flushed in embarrassment, but forced himself to continue. "That you won't masturbate at all."

"Wh-what?" Shock broke part of the spell, and Jinpachi pulled back abruptly to stare at him in dismay. "Issei, you can't be serious!"

Issei hushed him with a quick kiss. "This isn't something I'd normally ask of you, believe me," he said fervently. "I'm not one of those girls who thinks her boyfriend is cheating on her every time he does that. If you don't think you can then I'll think of something else, but it's important."

"This has something to do with getting me to be able to accept you as a guy?" Jinpachi asked, looking pained. Issei nodded, his expression serious, and the redhead sighed. It was a measure of how badly he wanted things to work between them when he reluctantly agreed, "I'll try. And damn it, you'll even be able to tell if I break down, won't you?" he added in frustration.

Stifling a laugh at his expression, Issei nodded. "Yes, I will. Though I promise not to hold your dreams against you," he assured him. "I of all people know how impossible it is to control them." Jinpachi just sighed again, and released his ass to wrap strong arms around him and pull him close.

"Jinpachi," Issei said softly, "there is one other circumstance where you can break this promise." The redhead looked up, eager for some way out of what was likely to prove a highly unpleasant situation, and Issei gave him a slightly wicked smile. "If you're looking at an image of a naked man at the time. I don't care if it's a magazine or a video or what, but that's the rule."

For a moment Jinpachi looked thoroughly confused, then understanding dawned. "You're hoping I'll learn to associate the male body with sex and release. Damn it, I should have listened to my friends, they told me I was crazy to date a psychology major."

Laughing, Issei kissed him again. "Will you try? For me, for us?"

Resigned, Jinpachi kissed him back. "For us, yes. But this damn well better work, or it might just kill me!"


	23. Chapter 23

"You're doing that on purpose, damn it," Jinpachi accused him abruptly, startling Issei out of the contemplative haze he'd been in. Blinking, Issei glanced up over his textbook, staring at Jinpachi in confusion.

The redhead was flushed and his breathing was a little ragged, and his eyes seemed rather fixed on Issei's mouth. They were in Issei's room, Jinpachi sprawled over the futon and Issei at the desk, studying. There were texts and notebooks everywhere, loose-leaf paper with hastily scribbled kana littering both the desk and the bed. They were both working on term papers: Issei for one of his psychology classes, and Jinpachi for an economics class.

Hastily Issei reviewed everything he'd done over the last few minutes, and came up drawing a blank. He'd been thoroughly absorbed in his reference books, pausing every few minutes to scrawl a few notes, but that was all. Somewhere in the back of his mind he'd registered a growing feeling of agitation from Jinpachi, but he'd attributed it to the redhead's general disinterest in the subject he was working on and in homework in general.

"Doing what?" he finally asked, bewildered.

"That! The thing with your pen!" Jinpachi replied, clearly aggravated. "That's not fair, Issei!"

Feeling like he'd somehow missed an essential part of this conversation, Issei glanced down at his pen. It was just a pen, as far as he could tell; there were odd little gouges on the cap, from where he tended to bite it while thinking, but otherwise it seemed ordinary enough. "The 'thing' where I write notes with it?" Issei hazarded a guess, though he was sure that couldn't be it.

"No!" Jinpachi groaned, and buried his face in his arms. His textbook lay off to one side a bit, having apparently been discarded some time before. "Dear Sarjareem, you don't even realize you're doing it, do you?"

"Doing what?" Issei asked again, growing amused. He couldn't imagine what he could have been doing to get Jinpachi this worked up. Then again, it took very little to work the redhead up these days. He'd kept his promise, though Issei could tell it was just about killing him to do it. He'd given in to the demands of his body a few times, but the odd mixture of embarrassment, repulsion, and growing hints of fascination assured him Jinpachi had obeyed his injunction to do so only while viewing the naked male body in some form or another.

Other than that, the only 'relief' Jinpachi had was in his dreams, and Issei wasn't sure the redhead didn't just end up more frustrated after them. The soul connection between them was wide open and functioning, and almost all of Issei's dreams these days were of their time on the moon. Not all the dreams were sexual, but considering the preoccupation both Jinpachi and, to a lesser extent, Issei currently had with sex, it wasn't often that they weren't. Enju and Gyokuran had shared more than a few intimate encounters, and the two boys got to relive them over and over again.

"Issei..." Jinpachi groaned, and lifted his head enough to give Issei a defeated look. "You're giving fellatio to your damn pen, and it's killing me. I thought the whole 'inadvertently seduce someone by licking a phallic object' thing was just a myth, but I guess not."

"What? I am not," Issei protested with an embarrassed laugh. He looked at the pen again. "You're exaggerating, I'm just chewing on it."

"Just chewing on it, he says," Jinpachi muttered, lowering his head to his arms again. "If that's your idea of 'just chewing on it', I think I'll die of a heart attack if you ever do give me a blow job. Gods."

Blushing, Issei just shook his head. He supposed he did sort of... suck on the pen, alternating rubbing it against his lips with nibbling on the tip of the cap. Nobody had ever said anything about it before, though.

"Well, you could always ask and find out, I suppose," he murmured, somehow managing to get the words out without stuttering. He'd had no idea he could be as bold as he had been with Jinpachi over the last several weeks, but it was becoming easier and easier to say things like that. It was all part of the game, the endless teasing between them.

"Would you actually do it if I asked, or would you just tease me more?" Jinpachi demanded, his words muffled by his arms. "I swear, Issei, I don't think I can take much more of this. If this keeps up, I'm going to start thinking Suzuwa-sensei is attractive!"

Since Issei had seen the teacher in question, a dried-up old crone who taught Jinpachi's accounting class and looked like she should have retired about fifty years ago, Issei laughed. "Well, we wouldn't want that," he agreed in a sultry tone of voice. Then he pouted in an exaggerated manner. "You'd find her attractive before you'd think a handsome male was? I never knew you had a thing for wrinkles."

Jinpachi just groaned and shook his head. Putting the pen in question aside, Issei slid out of his chair and went to kneel next to his boyfriend on the futon. He ran his fingers through the redhead's soft hair, rubbing his fingertips over the tense muscles in the other boy's neck. When Jinpachi arched into the touch, he leaned over to murmur directly into the redhead's ear.

"I know you've been good," he said, his breath hot against the shell of Jinpachi's ear. "I'm impressed, actually. I don't think I could hold off as long as you have. But I also know you've broken a couple of times." He was almost purring now, Jinpachi shivering beneath him. "How did it feel, stroking yourself off while watching those pretty boys, Jinpachi?"

He got a brief flash of image through their link, as his words made Jinpachi recall one of the movies he'd been watching at the time. As he'd suspected the males in it were all pretty enough to pass as girls almost as easily as Issei, but they were nude and very definitely male.

"It felt like I was jerking off to something I shouldn't be," Jinpachi muttered, reaching out to rub his hand over Issei's leg. "And it took longer than I thought it would, considering how desperate I was."

"That's because you don't find naked males inherently arousing," Issei laughed. "Did you try imagining yourself in the place of one of them?" From the flash of embarrassment and further arousal he got from Jinpachi, he knew the redhead had done exactly that and it had worked, at least to some extent. "Did you imagine me in the place of the other boy?" he asked, lowering his voice and rubbing a little harder at Jinpachi's neck.

"Yes," Jinpachi gasped, squirming under the touch. "Gods Issei, you're such a tease. I swear you're going to be the death of me." He rolled over abruptly and caught Issei off guard, tugging him off balance so that he collapsed half over Jinpachi's chest. Issei's breathless laughter was cut off when Jinpachi kissed him fiercely, weeks' worth of unspent passion bottled up in the touch.

Moaning, Issei arched against him, rubbing their upper torsos together. He wasn't wearing the false bra that he used to make it seem like he had breasts; he'd taken to leaving it off if they were alone together in his room, to remind Jinpachi of what he really was. Most Japanese girls had non-existent chests anyway; he only wore the bra to make sure nobody ever suspected him. He wound his arms around Jinpachi's neck, feeling the redhead run strong hands down the line of his back over his blouse.

The kiss was wet and hot and frantic, as Issei's empathy picked up on Jinpachi's desperation and fed it back to him. Jinpachi caught at the hem of Issei's blouse and tugged it up out of the waistband of his skirt, allowing his hand to trail up over the bare skin of Issei's back. Issei gasped into the other boy's mouth, burning with heat and friction and wanting more, so much more.

They'd gone this far before, had even once had an entire make-out session with both their shirts off, though Jinpachi had been a little skittish about touching Issei's front. He'd done it in the end, if for no other reason than that one of the other rules Issei had laid down was that he wouldn't touch anything on Jinpachi the redhead hadn't touched on him first.

"You're driving me crazy," Jinpachi growled now into their kiss, dragging his hands up to Issei's shoulders and then down again. He surprised Issei by not stopping at the fabric of the skirt, instead trailing down until he could cup the soft globes of Issei's ass in his hands. Issei moaned and squirmed, breathless at the intimate touch. "Please Issei... give me something, before I die of frustration," the redhead pleaded, much to Issei's delight. "I can't take it any more."

Issei had been waiting for this, hoping and praying for it. "You know the rules," he murmured, breaking away to look at his panting boyfriend with a sly smile on his face. "You don't get off unless you're looking at a naked male." _Take the bait,_ he willed, wishing he could implant the thought in the other boy's mind. Unfortunately his empathy just didn't work that way. _Come on, you're desperate, and I'm right here and totally willing..._

As if he were the mind reader and not Issei, Jinpachi moaned and said, "There's a male right here in front of me." He dipped his fingers lower, teasing over the bare skin beneath the hem of Issei's skirt, inching the fabric higher on his thighs. "So get naked already."

 _Yes!_ Issei exulted, thrilled. "You've got a perfectly good pair of hands, do it yourself," he invited, hoping he wasn't pushing his luck. His own hands were already fumbling at Jinpachi's belt, shaking slightly with excitement and need. _Oh gods oh gods oh dearest Sarjareem, don't let him change his mind and chicken out halfway through..._

To his surprise Jinpachi didn't start with the buttons on his blouse, but rather by shoving his skirt further up his legs and reaching for his underwear. Issei gasped as the other boy's strong hands skimmed up the sides of his thighs and found the high-cut sides of his lacy panties, which were strained to the limit trying to constrain his rock-hard erection. Jinpachi eased the lingerie down over his legs, as Issei lifted his hips to allow him to free the scrap of lace. He finally got Jinpachi's belt free at the same moment he was able to kick his panties off, and he couldn't resist dipping his hand down to brush his fingers over the tip of Jinpachi's cock.

"I thought you wouldn't touch anywhere I hadn't?" Jinpachi gasped, obviously fighting not to thrust his hips into the contact.

"Consider it a reward for taking the initiative," Issei murmured, teasing him with another light touch before pulling away. "Don't tell me you've decided to stop here?"

"Oh, hell no," Jinpachi muttered, his hands flying up to the buttons of Issei's blouse. Issei laughed and set to work ridding Jinpachi of his own shirt.

They got tangled up a few times in their haste to rid each other of their clothes, and were breathless with laughter and passion by the time they'd gotten the last of it off. Jinpachi had almost shyly asked Issei to leave the skirt on; since he didn't seem to mind that it was hiked high enough to reveal all of Issei's erection, the empath agreed. So long as Jinpachi couldn't actively fool himself about Issei's gender, Issei didn't care if the other boy was comforted by some remnant of femininity.

For a long moment after they'd tossed the last article of clothing away, Issei held Jinpachi slightly away from him and just drank in the sight of the other boy with thirsty eyes. He'd seen Jinpachi naked before, of course; you couldn't share the same phys-ed classes for years without getting glimpses here and there. That had been back in junior high, though. Once Issei had realized his attraction to his best friend, he'd been very careful to always be looking in the other direction.

To say Jinpachi had changed a bit since junior high was like saying that living as a boy on Earth was a bit different from being a girl on the moon base. Words simply couldn't do the redhead justice; Issei stared and forgot even to blush as he murmured, "Beautiful."

Jinpachi was flushed enough for both of them, though it was only partly from embarrassment. "So are you," he murmured, though Issei noted he wasn't quite able to bring himself to look below the waist for more than a second or two.

"I'll touch you," Issei offered on impulse. Jinpachi gave him a startled look, and Issei couldn't resist smirking at him. "But only if you watch," he added. They were lying close enough now that Jinpachi wouldn't be able to watch Issei's hand on him without also seeing Issei's cock lying hard against the sheets.

"I..." Jinpachi swallowed, and nodded. "Yes. Please. As long as I don't have to touch back..."

"Not yet," Issei assured him, trailing his fingers over the smooth planes of Jinpachi's chest. "Not unless you want to. Just watch, and let me do something I've wanted to do for years."

Jinpachi was larger in body than Issei, and correspondingly larger here. Issei touched the soft skin at the base of the redhead's erection with a sigh of wonder, or maybe awe. He was half convinced he was dreaming, he'd imagined doing this so many times. As with all dreams, he quickly found, the reality was ten times better.

He dragged his fingers up over the hard flesh, enjoying Jinpachi's helpless moans. He checked quickly to make sure the other boy was really watching, then returned his eyes to what he was doing in fascination. It felt different from touching himself, harder to judge exactly how to press and stroke to achieve the best effect.

Then he realized he was being stupid; there was no reason he shouldn't be able to tell exactly what pleased his boyfriend the most. He flung open the connection between them, reaching out with his empathy and immersing himself in the fire running through Jinpachi's body. He moaned as he made the deeper contact, feeling suddenly like he _was_ touching himself as well as Jinpachi. He had to double check just to make certain Jinpachi hadn't grown bold enough to touch him in return.

"Issei... what... is that your empathy?" Jinpachi choked out, his eyes clouded with lust and wonder. "I can feel you..."

"Yes," Issei replied, closing his eyes and letting the sensations run through him. "Don't fight it, just let it happen. Mm, you feel so good..." He tightened his grip and felt Jinpachi respond helplessly.

Slowly he increased his pace, wanting to draw it out as long as he could. It wouldn't be long, he knew; not with as much pressure as Jinpachi was under, not being able to masturbate thanks to his own promise. Already he could feel the first stirrings of orgasm in the other boy's body, the tingling rush through his nerves that tightened his stomach and made his balls draw up closer to his body.

In the end he was as caught by the intense sensation as Jinpachi, and unable to bring himself to draw it out more than a few minutes. He tightened his grip again, rubbing his palm up over the head, and at the same time arched his own hips to rub his cock against the bed. That sudden extra stimulation was enough to send them both over the edge, sensations so tightly entwined Issei wasn't sure where Jinpachi left off and he began.

It was the biggest high of Issei's entire life, and he emerged on the other side panting and seeing stars. "Holy... holy shit, Issei," Jinpachi murmured, sounding as dazed as Issei felt. "That was fucking... holy shit. I think I might be scared to actually have sex with you, if it's going to be better than that."

Issei gave a shaky laugh, moving forward to bury his face in Jinpachi's shoulder. He felt the taller boy's arms slide around him, and sighed in contentment. "I didn't expect it to be quite that intense," he admitted softly. "A side effect of the deeper connection you and I share, I guess."

"Uh..." Still closely linked, Issei felt Jinpachi's hesitation and embarrassment clearly. "What about you? Don't you need to... I mean..."

Realizing what the other boy was getting at, Issei gave a breathy laugh. "I felt everything you did, Jinpachi," he reminded the redhead. "Do you really think I've got anything more left than you do? Obviously you weren't watching at the end like I told you to."

"Oh." Jinpachi blushed furiously. "I was looking, I think I just stopped actually being able to _see_ for a minute there." He stroked Issei's back gently, sighing. "I still can't really imagine touching you. Are you sure this is going to work?"

Stretching slightly, Issei snuggled a little closer. "Jinpachi, you're lying here with me in your arms, we're both naked or the next thing to it, and you seem just fine with it. Would that have been true a month ago?"

"Hell no," Jinpachi admitted with a laugh. "I guess it is working. I just don't want to end up with this being all about you pleasuring me, with nothing in return." He slipped his fingers beneath Issei's chin and lifted, tilting his face up for a soft, sweet kiss.

Issei could have stayed happily in Jinpachi's arms forever, and in fact they did both drift off. When they woke it was dark out, and Issei's clock said it was well past dinnertime. Reluctantly he disentangled himself from Jinpachi, looking around for his clothes. "We should eat something," he said, still feeling sleepy and content.

"Yeah," Jinpachi agreed with a yawn. "I'm starving. Do you want to order in? I'll pay."

"Sure," Issei agreed, smiling back at him. He didn't let Jinpachi pay for their food often, but tonight he just couldn't be bothered with the hassle of cooking. He just wanted to sit and enjoy Jinpachi's company for as long as possible.

When they emerged from his room, they found Sakura curled up with a book in the living room. "Hey, Sakura, want to go in on takeout with us?" Jinpachi asked. She glanced up, and Issei was concerned to see that she looked flushed and her eyes were a bit glazed.

"Sakura? Are you okay? You look feverish or something," he said, moving forward with one hand outstretched to check her temperature. She caught his hand and shook her head, giving him a slightly bemused smile.

"Issei? Do me a favour okay?" she asked, and Issei nodded, mystified for the second time that day. "Next time you two decide to get it on, _warn_ me first so I can clear out, please. And so I can get anyone else out of the house. Not that it wasn't pleasant, but I think Hana was a little confused by the whole thing. And more than a little startled to realize she'd essentially slept with me, since the poor girl is rather straight."

Realizing what she must mean, Issei went first pale, then bright red. "Oh no," he whispered, mortified. "I... I was broadcasting?" He hadn't meant for it to go past Jinpachi. He'd _thought_ he was only opening the connection between the two of them. Moaning, he turned and buried his face in Jinpachi's shoulder.

"You're too strong an empath to be able to feel that something that strongly and _not_ broadcast it, I think," Sakura replied with a smile. "Don't worry about it too much, I certainly enjoyed it. And Hana's far too shy to _ever_ mention it to anyone, though I don't think she'll be coming over to study any more."

To his further embarrassment Jinpachi burst out laughing, apparently finding the whole thing hilarious. "We'll make sure you're not around next time," he assured Sakura with a grin. "Damn, I'm kind of sorry I missed that, though." He laughed again when Issei hit his other shoulder, and hugged the smaller boy tightly. "Next time we'll just have to do it at my place," he murmured into Issei's ear. "I've got a single, and I'm sure the other guys in my dorm won't mind the overflow."

Issei thought he might just die of embarrassment, but he nodded. The fact that Jinpachi was already talking about 'next time' made him almost unbearably happy, however. _Thank you, Sarjareem. I think this might actually be working._


	24. Chapter 24

The heat of midsummer in Tokyo was one of the few things that made Issei occasionally regret his decision to spend the rest of his life as a female. The hot, sticky humidity made his light shirt cling to his sweaty skin, and strands of his long hair were plastered across his neck despite his attempts to put it up in a ponytail to get it out of the way. He couldn't even wear the cooler - and more revealing - clothes many of the bolder girls adopted in the summer, because it compromised his disguise.

Leaning against the brick wall of the economics building, Issei fanned himself with a notebook and wished he'd had the foresight to arrange to meet Jinpachi somewhere he might have found a little shade to rest in. The sun beat down on him with fierce strength, and the bricks behind him seemed to have soaked in the heat until he thought he probably could have baked bread on their surface.

Unfortunately he couldn't even look forward to some relief when he went home. Their air conditioner had broken down two days before, and the repairmen were swamped by frantic requests from other people with exactly the same problem. It would be at least a few more days before they could get it fixed.

Sakura had been spending most of her time over at their friends' houses, enjoying _their_ air con. Issei had been invited as well of course, but it was horribly uncomfortable for him to sleep in the bra that gave him his false breasts, and he couldn't risk any of his friends seeing him without it.

Another night of not being able to sleep for the oppressive heat, however, and he might decide the discomfort of the bra was preferable.

The makeshift fan wasn't doing much but stirring the hot air around him, but it was still better than nothing. "Hurry _up_ ," he murmured impatiently to Jinpachi, still somewhere inside the building Issei was leaning against. His class should have ended five minutes ago, and he knew Issei was going to be waiting for him.

There was a burst of masculine laughter as the main doors swung open and a group of boys emerged. Idly Issei turned his attention to them, hoping Jinpachi was among them. "...don't care how hot she is, you should dump her already," one of them was saying derisively. "There's plenty of hotties on campus, and most of them aren't cockteases like your girl."

Issei felt the burst of annoyance that followed those words deep in his soul, and blinked as he realized the feeling had come from Jinpachi. He couldn't see the redhead in the group of boys yet, but his boyfriend was definitely there somewhere. And, it dawned on him, it was Issei they were talking about.

"Lay off Isako already, will you?" he heard Jinpachi grumble, confirming his realization. "Believe it or not, everything in life is not about sex. We'll get to it when we're both good and ready. She's worth waiting for."

Amused, Issei continued fanning himself lazily and wondered how long it would take them to realize he was there. He might have been insulted by the conversation, if it weren't for the fact that he knew very well that it must be just about killing Jinpachi to know that the only one holding them back was Jinpachi himself. Issei was perfectly willing - and eager! - to take things further, but his rules about how and when things were allowed to proceed held firm. Jinpachi still wasn't quite willing to touch Issei that way, and so things stayed at a level that frustrated them both.

Not that Issei blamed his boyfriend for not telling his friends that. Admitting that he was the one reluctant to 'go all the way' with his girlfriend probably would have gotten him laughed out of the school. Explaining the real reason for it not only would have embarrassed Jinpachi beyond imagining, it would have made Issei furious with him for blowing his cover.

"You sound like it's serious, Ogura," another of his friends teased him. "You're too young to settle down! You're supposed to spend your school years experimenting and having fun before you have to become respectable. It's too early to decide you've found your one and only."

"The gods don't always give us our perfect match at a convenient time," Jinpachi replied wryly. "You take it when you have the chance, because you never know how long you might have to wait for another one. Right?"

Jinpachi's warm eyes met Issei's, and he smiled as he realized the redhead had known he was there all along. A burst of love and affection travelled along their bond in both directions at the same time, and their smiles widened. "We've waited long enough that a little more waiting to make things perfect isn't going to kill us," Issei confirmed softly. _Two incarnations is more than enough... and Sarjareem only knows how many lifetimes we went through before the last one that we don't remember. The cycle ends here._

Jinpachi's friends at least had the grace to look embarrassed when they realized that the girl they'd been discussing had been listening to them. Issei chuckled as his boyfriend walked over and took his hand, smiling up at the taller boy with a glint of amusement in his eyes as he silently reassured the redhead that he hadn't taken any offence.

"So we're both free for the day," Jinpachi commented once he'd waved his friends off and the two of them were alone. Still holding Issei's hand, he tugged the smaller boy between the economics building and the math building, heading for the park-like and _shaded_ pathway behind the buildings. "Did you have anything in mind to do tonight?"

"Anything that involves us _not_ being out in the heat," Issei said fervently, sighing with relief as they entered the relatively cool shadows of the trees. It was still hot and humid, but at least the sun wasn't beating down on him with full force. "Our air con is broken, and I've had quite enough of being overheated."

"That sucks," Jinpachi grimaced sympathetically. "Well, how about dinner somewhere cool, then? I haven't gotten to treat you in a while." He grinned when Issei automatically started to protest that he couldn't let Jinpachi pay for him all the time, and silenced the dark-haired boy with a kiss. "I've never met another girl who's so difficult to convince to let me treat her," he chuckled when the kiss broke. "You're too stubborn for your own good, love."

Blushing at the endearment, Issei shook his head. "Stubborn pride isn't an exclusively male trait," he protested, and grinned. "Just look at Sakura."

"Sakura is not exactly a sterling example of femininity," Jinpachi replied dryly, making Issei laugh. "I wish you'd let me take you out more often," he added seriously, rubbing his thumb over the back of Issei's hand. "I can afford it, and I like treating you. You deserve better than what you're stuck eking out of your scholarship budget. My dad doesn't mind as long as I keep my grades up, which I've been doing thanks to you helping me study." He smiled. "I think he's just as glad to see me settling down with a 'nice girl'."

Instead of cheering Issei as he'd intended, however, his words made the empath's eyes darken. "He might not be so happy when he realizes you're not going to marry me," he pointed out, looking away. There were moments when he had it driven home to him that although he could pretend to be the girl his soul insisted he was, there were some things his male body meant he would never be able to have. His difficulty in adjusting Jinpachi to the idea of having sex with a male body wasn't the end of it. Once more he cursed his own stupidity in asking Sarjareem to reincarnate him in a male body.

Then he kicked himself for even bringing up marriage. They'd only been together a few months, it was too early to be talking about things like that. He didn't want to end up being one of those clingy girls who drove their boyfriends off by asking for serious commitments too early.

To his surprise, Jinpachi didn't seem in the least anxious at the mention of marriage. He simply shrugged. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," he replied. "It won't matter that we can't legally get married if our attempt to force me to accept your body doesn't work."

"It is working," Issei assured him, though he couldn't stop a wistful sigh of his own. Undoing the ingrained prejudice of a lifetime took time and patience, and while he was more than willing to devote both to the effort, it did get frustrating. Especially since it was hard to measure any progress they might be making.

"So does that mean you're going to let me take you to dinner?" Jinpachi asked with a grin, and Issei had to laugh and capitulate.

As Jinpachi walked him home after dinner, Issei reflected that maybe it really was time for him to stop objecting when the other boy wanted to take him out. Jinpachi had a point that most girls wouldn't have even thought about objecting to that sort of treatment from their boyfriends, in fact would have expected it. It _was_ a bit of a different situation than when Sakura tried to buy things for him. Maybe if Jinpachi hadn't really been able to afford it he might have continued to object, but as it was it just seemed a little silly.

He wasn't going to _tell_ the redhead about his decision though. With a little smile on his face, Issei reflected that he still didn't want his boyfriend going overboard. Jinpachi could sometimes get a little too enthusiastic about things. He'd just let Jinpachi think he was getting better at coaxing Issei into letting him pay for things.

"Did you want to come in for a bit?" he asked as they reached the building he and Sakura rented an apartment in. "Our fridge is still working at least, I can offer you a cold drink."

"Sure," Jinpachi shrugged. "I don't have anywhere to be. It's Friday night, homework can wait until tomorrow."

"It had better not wait any longer than that," Issei chided him teasingly. "We don't want our dates becoming dependent on _my_ income because you let your grades drop too much."

"I'm sure we could still keep ourselves entertained," Jinpachi replied with an easy grin, leaning down to kiss him as the elevator made its way up to his floor.

Giggling, Issei disentangled himself from the embrace as the doors opened again. "It's too hot for that right now," he complained, fanning himself again with his hand. The heat in the elevator and inside hallways was even worse than outside, lacking even the slight relief of the breeze.

Inside their apartment it was even worse. "I'm home," Issei called as he unlocked the door and entered, kicking off his shoes. He didn't really expect an answer, and indeed there was only silence in response.

Jinpachi followed him in, and stopped short in the hall three steps in. "I know you said your air con was busted, Issei, but this is insane! It's like a sauna in here!"

"The windows don't open," Issei explained wearily. Moving into the tiny kitchen, he flipped on the light and spotted a note in Sakura's hasty scrawl pinned to the corkboard hanging on the wall. "Sakura's staying at a friend's again," he read for Jinpachi's benefit. Sighing, he added, "I wish I could do the same, but I can't risk having someone realize the truth about me."

"You can't stay here," the other boy said with certainty, looking around with a frown as he leaned in the kitchen doorway. "Issei, this isn't healthy. I don't know how you can sleep in this, but you'll make yourself sick. Isn't there anywhere you can go?"

"The only people who know my secret are you and Sakura," Issei shrugged. Opening the fridge, he revelled in the blast of cold air for a moment before reaching for two bottles of water. Anything else would only leave him thirstier than before he'd drunk it, and he was probably dehydrated anyway. He offered one to Jinpachi and the redhead took it, but just stood there holding it and frowning.

"Come back with me then," the other boy said unexpectedly. "My dorm is air conditioned, and I've got a single room. There's no way I can just go home and sleep knowing you're stuck in this."

"Jinpachi, you're in an all-boys dorm!" Issei replied, scandalized. "We'll both get in trouble!"

"Why?" The other boy grinned at him. "I won't be the first guy to sneak his girl in for the night, nor the last. Anyway, technically we wouldn't even be doing anything wrong."

Sputtering, Issei was torn between laughter and smacking him for his cheek. For the most part, unless they were talking about sex, Jinpachi had been good about never referring to Issei as a male. Laughter won out, and he leaned against the wall and shook his head. "It's tempting," he admitted, unable to keep all his longing out of his voice. He really didn't want to spend another night tossing and turning on his sticky, sweaty sheets. "Are you sure you wouldn't mind?" It seemed like an uncomfortable situation to put the other boy into. Issei had been in his dorm room a few times, and it was beyond tiny. They wouldn't have any choice but to share the bed, and they'd be forced into pretty close proximity.

They'd napped together several times, on Issei's larger bed, but somehow actually spending the night seemed like a bigger step than anything they'd done before.

On the other hand - why was he objecting? He was _trying_ to get Jinpachi to take things farther between them, and sleeping together on a small bed seemed almost guaranteed to further the cause.

"It'll be okay," Jinpachi shrugged, and then smirked at him. "In case you hadn't noticed, for the most part I do like being close to you."

"All right," Issei agreed, feeling oddly shy. That was just silly, really. How often had he slept over at Jinpachi's in junior high? They'd always shared a bed then, curled up together as uncaring as a couple of puppies. It had proved embarrassing when they'd started dreaming about Gyokuran and Enju sleeping together, but until then they'd never thought twice about it.

That was the key difference, though. They'd been too young and innocent then for it to seem strange or awkward. Now, with everything that lay between them, a little shyness was probably only to be expected.

"Let's go then," Jinpachi declared, handing back his unopened water. "No reason to stay here and subject ourselves to this. You can stay with me as long as you need to, until your air con is fixed."

"Let's see how tonight goes first," Issei said, putting the waters back in the fridge. Despite his words of caution, suddenly he was hoping it took them a very long time indeed to fix the cooler.

Neither of them seemed to know what to say as they headed back towards campus, where Jinpachi's dorm was. After a few minutes Jinpachi reached out to take his hand, and they strolled along with their fingers entwined. Issei felt like he was walking on clouds, his feet hardly touching the ground. _This is how it should be,_ he thought to himself, content. _This is how it was_ meant _to be. If we can just get past this one last challenge, we'll finally be able to be together. And we'll never screw it up again._

Well, perhaps that was a little optimistic. They would probably make mistakes in their next incarnation too; the same mistakes or different ones, but there would be mistakes. Somehow Issei believed that if they could just get it right once, though, they would surely be more likely to get it right again in later lives.

Getting Issei in was easy enough. The boys who lived in the dorm were allowed to have visitors, they just weren't supposed to have girls staying overnight. He was a little tense as Jinpachi closed the door to his room behind them, even as he sighed in relief at the feel of the air conditioning against his overheated skin.

"If the air con ever breaks in this building, you're going to end up with a riot on your hands," he commented in amusement, perching on the edge of the bed as Jinpachi moved to empty his backpack and put his books away.

"I think they take pretty good care of it for exactly that reason," Jinpachi chuckled. "There haven't been any problems with the heating or cooling systems in all the time I've lived here. Maybe you should move into one of the dorms. Would it be that much more expensive if you and Sakura shared a room?"

"Yes, and you'd have to convince both of us that the restrictions imposed by living in residence would be worth the benefits," Issei replied dryly. "We're happy where we are, it's just that we're not exactly the only ones whose air con has broken down this week."

"Fair enough," Jinpachi conceded. "Well, it's too early to go to bed on a Friday night. Want to watch a movie or something? I've got a bunch."

"Sure, that sounds good," Issei agreed, smiling back at him. They would have to curl up together on the bed to be able to see the screen, but he wasn't exactly complaining about the idea. Excitement was coiling into a tight knot in his stomach, and he had to remind himself to be careful not to start projecting it to Jinpachi. If he did manage to nudge the other boy a little closer to actually having sex with him, he didn't want it to be primarily because they'd been caught up in his empathy.

"You pick something out, then," Jinpachi invited him, gesturing at the rows of DVDs next to the television. "I'll go get us some cold drinks from the vending machines. Be right back."

Issei moved over to the shelves as Jinpachi left, examining the selection. He smiled as he saw more than one old favourite, as well as more recent blockbuster movies. Wait, wasn't that... He laughed, delighted, touching the box of the soap opera set. Not exactly Jinpachi's normal fare, but he remembered that show. It was the one Enju and Shusuran had followed religiously on the moonbase, tapping into the broadcasting signal from Earth. He'd have to ask if he could borrow it; he and Sakura would probably have a great deal of fun rewatching it now.

It wasn't really what he was after for tonight, though. Other than that one series there was nothing that might be classified as a 'chick flick', no sappy emotional romances or romantic comedies. That was only to be expected, of course. Horror and really gory action movies were out because Issei hated feeling other people's reactions to that sort of thing on top of his own. That left some of the lighter action and science fiction movies, a few dramas, and the pure comedies.

Hesitating over the decision, Issei glanced down and saw the bottom edges of another row of cases in a drawer that was not quite closed. Curious, because the collection on the shelves was alphabetized and seemed to be complete, he pulled the drawer the rest of the way open.

It took him a moment to figure out what he was looking at but when realization dawned, his eyes widened and a hot blush crept up his cheeks. Picking up one of the cases, he couldn't help staring in fascination at the two young men pictured on the front. _Wow, I didn't think that position was actually_ possible _outside of badly written fiction,_ he thought, biting his lip in a futile attempt to keep his breathing from speeding up. He was male enough to react to visual stimulation, and if the cover of this movie was anything to go by he would probably find himself very aroused by the rest of it.

"Did you find anything?" Jinpachi asked as he came back into the room. When Issei couldn't immediately find his voice to answer, the redhead's tone became curious. "Issei? I... oh." Turning, Issei saw his boyfriend looking at the open drawer with an expression of mingled shame and embarrassment. "I, uh... it's not... I mean, I can explain..."

Chuckling, Issei set the movie down and moved over to wrap his arms around the taller boy's waist, tilting his head back to look up into his eyes. "Jinpachi, it's all right," he assured him, smiling. "I'm the one who imposed the restriction that you had to be watching something like that in the first place, remember? Did you think I would be upset to find out that you owned porn?"

Shrugging, Jinpachi's embarrassment deepened. "I guess not. It's just a couple of my friends have had their girlfriends go ballistic on them over that kind of thing. I don't get it - the girls act like their boyfriends are cheating on them or something."

"That's just silly," Issei shook his head. "Not all girls are that unreasonable, I promise." His smile turned sly. "Once we've got you past your mental block, I don't even care how often you jerk off. As long as I get to participate once in a while."

"Issei," Jinpachi groaned, then laughed and hugged him back. "You're going to be the death of me one of these days. So did you find a movie you wanted to watch?"

Some imp of the perverse made Issei suggest, "Why not that one?"

"Are you serious?" Jinpachi asked, staring at him.

"Now I'm curious," Issei admitted, blushing again. "I've gotten glimpses of what you've been watching in your mind, but I've never seen anything like that myself. Besides," he reached out with his empathy, caught a little thrill of illicit arousal from Jinpachi and fed it back to him, "I think it might be fun. Don't you?"

Staring back at him for a long moment, Jinpachi seemed to be weighing his options. "Sure," he finally breathed out, shaking his head like he couldn't believe he was agreeing to the idea. "Why the hell not? You know, none of the guys are going to believe I've got a girlfriend who not only doesn't mind that I watch porn, but wants to watch it with me. I'm going to be the envy of the floor."

"I assume you don't tell them what _kind_ of porn," Issei chuckled, going up on tiptoe to kiss him before moving to put the movie into the player.

"You sure about this?" Jinpachi gave him one last chance to change his mind as he settled in beside the redhead on the bed. Issei had flicked the lights out as he crossed the room, leaving them with the dim glow from the tv itself as the only light source. It threw Jinpachi's features into sharp relief, making the whole thing seem a bit surreal to Issei.

Wordlessly Issei took the remote from him and hit 'play', leaning back against him with a slightly nervous smile. He couldn't really believe he was doing this, but he _was_ curious.

There was, he quickly discovered, only the barest bones of an attempt at a 'story'. The whole 'plot' seemed to be a straight man wandering by accident into some sort of gay bath house, and being held only half against his will to witness and participate in all kinds of sexual acts. Most of the boys were pretty enough to be girls, and Issei was fairly certain this movie was aimed more at bi-curious straight guys than actual gay males. Well, since that was exactly what he wanted Jinpachi to be, that was fine with him. Issei certainly didn't mind watching the pretty boys do all kinds of imaginative things to each other.

He did find himself taking mental notes a few times, his eyes wide with disbelief or surprise. Watching them all squirm and writhe around each other like well-oiled sex gods was arousing enough, but feeling Jinpachi slowly work himself into a reluctant frenzy beside him was far more thrilling.

In short order Issei was breathing hard and fidgeting, fighting not to squirm with arousal. Beside him Jinpachi was still, almost unnaturally so, but he couldn't hide his reaction from the empath pressed up against him. Whether Jinpachi liked it or not, Issei's attempt at conditioning him had worked at least this much. Jinpachi was aroused by the scenes on the tv, lack of girls or not.

Shifting so he was pressed a little closer to his boyfriend, Issei boldly slipped his hand into Jinpachi's lap. The redhead gave him a surprised look, before Issei's hand closed over the bulge of his cock through his jeans and he closed his eyes and tipped his head back with a moan.

"Eyes open," Issei chided him, stretching up and nipping his earlobe sharply. "Keep watching the screen. You know the rules, Jinpachi."

Reluctantly the other boy opened his eyes again, his feverish gaze locked on the screen. Issei wasn't sure how much of it he was actually seeing, but he was at least trying to comply.

Running his mouth down over the angle of Jinpachi's jaw, Issei worked the other boy's belt open. Once he had that done it was easy to undo his pants and slide his hand inside, curling his fingers around the hard shaft of the redhead's cock. Jinpachi moaned again but kept his eyes on the screen, and Issei smiled to himself.

Drawing Jinpachi's erection out from inside his pants, Issei took a moment to study and admire it. He'd seen it on several occasions now, but it never failed to stir the heat deep inside his body. As pretty as the boys on the screen were, Issei would always prefer the real sight and feel of Jinpachi's body.

Scooting a little further down on the bed, Issei leaned over and took the tip in his mouth. This was the first time he'd actually tasted his boyfriend, and the distinct flavour burst over his tongue with an odd feeling of familiarity. It took him a moment to realize why it would seem so much like he'd done this before; it was Enju who remembered doing this, not him. Jinpachi tasted like Gyokuran.

Moaning a bit at the realization, Issei licked at the place where the head met the shaft of Jinpachi's cock. Yes, he really was remarkably like Gyokuran, in shape as well as taste. If that was true, Issei wondered if he would have the same sensitive spots as well. Enju had done this for Gyokuran many times, and had learned the best ways of pleasing her lover in an attempt to make the man focus on her and not Mokuren.

Well, there was only one way to find out. Sliding his mouth down a little further, Issei let his ponytail slip over his shoulder to tickle the part of Jinpachi's cock that his mouth wasn't covering. The feel of Enju's hair had always driven Gyokuran half mad with lust.

Apparently it did indeed have much the same effect on Jinpachi, because he groaned and arched up, pushing himself a bit deeper into Issei's mouth. Drawing away a bit, Issei licked at the tip like a lollipop, grinning. "Keep watching," he murmured when he sensed Jinpachi's attention on him. "I don't want to miss anything."

"But you're not even looking... ohhhhh," Jinpachi's words trailed off in an incoherent noise when Issei went down on him again, taking more of him inside this time. At the same moment the empath opened the link between them, letting Jinpachi's emotions trickle into him as he watched the movie through the redhead's eyes.

From Jinpachi's perspective the movie came tinged with feelings of guilty pleasure, the thrill of doing something naughty combined with the shame of indulging in a 'dirty' pleasure. Issei did his best to ease the negative side of the emotions, encouraging the positive ones by feeding his own reaction to the movie to Jinpachi in turn.

The whole time he continued to bob up and down over Jinpachi's cock, doing his best to drive the other boy wild. He could feel the first sharp edges of orgasm creeping over Jinpachi, sending spikes of pleasure shuddering through him. The combination of denial and the heady sensation of the shared arousal between them always drew the redhead to the brink quickly.

Shifting uncomfortably as his own arousal made itself urgently felt, Issei reached down surreptitiously with one hand to adjust himself. His skirt was loose, but the panties that had been so comfortable this morning were now distressingly tight.

He moaned around Jinpachi's cock as his fingers brushed his own erection, and felt Jinpachi jerk against him. Breathless, Issei realized this was one thing he'd never tried; touching himself while connected emotionally to Jinpachi, forcing the other boy to share the sensation.

Deliberately this time, he stroked his cock with the firm, slow grip he most preferred. The sensation made him shudder and mewl softly with need, and Jinpachi gasped. "Oh gods, Issei... do that again," the other boy pleaded hoarsely, his voice full of wonder and disbelief.

Issei was more than happy to obey, rubbing himself with long even strokes that drew the pleasure out as much as he could stand it. He timed the motions of his mouth in counterpoint with his hand, so that one of them was always at the point of most pleasure in the cycle. Jinpachi was shuddering beneath him now, his fists clenching and unclenching in the sheets as he fought for control.

In all truth Issei wasn't faring any better, just as caught up in the loop as Jinpachi. When another, larger hand tentatively joined his on his cock he almost didn't realize the significance of it, too lost in pleasure to think at all. Jinpachi's hand was rougher than his, catching on the smooth skin of his cock in a way that seemed to tug at something deep inside Issei every time it happened. He let go and let the other boy take over, focusing his efforts on what he was doing with his mouth instead.

It was an awkward position for both of them to maintain, but oh gods it was worth it. If Issei had thought experiencing orgasm through his link to Jinpachi was intense, that was nothing compared to the feeling of _sharing_ orgasm as they both hit the peak at once. Jinpachi's moans were almost loud enough to count as screams as he shuddered and shot thick gobs of come into Issei's willing mouth, and the only reason Issei wasn't just as loud was because he was somewhat gagged.

The last moments seemed to last forever, orgasm drawing out much longer than either of them was used to. Finally Issei collapsed bonelessly across Jinpachi's lap, panting for air. For a long moment Jinpachi just let him lie there, hand still loose around Issei's cock.

Slowly the redhead shifted, stretching out on the bed and drawing Issei up beside him. Despite his desire not to lose the incredible sensation of Jinpachi's hand around him, Issei went willingly enough. They shared a long, deep kiss that felt nearly as intimate as what they'd just finished doing, the link still wide open between them.

"Still think it's not working?" Issei asked almost giddily when they finally parted for air.

"I can't believe I just did that," Jinpachi answered, lifting his hand to examine the white strands of semen coating it with an expression of mixed fascination and revulsion. "That was... damn, Issei. If it's always going to feel like _that_ , maybe this won't be so difficult after all."

"Mmmm," Issei murmured in agreement, a little smug smile playing over his lips as he snuggled into the pillow. "Like that or better, I suspect. I wasn't expecting it to be that intense either, but I'm certainly not complaining."

"We can do this," Jinpachi whispered, sounding like he'd just had his dearest prayer answered. "Issei, I think this is really going to work."

"Yes," Issei agreed simply, smiling back at him. Laughing, Jinpachi hugged him, careful not to get his handful of semen all over either Issei's clothes or the sheets.

"Now I'm going to go clean up, before I stain something," Jinpachi said, a little ruefully. He hesitated as he slipped out of the bed, looking back at Issei sprawled wantonly over the covers. Clearing his throat, he glanced away as he added, "I don't usually sleep in anything. Don't see why you should either."

With that he all but fled the room, leaving Issei blinking stunned behind him. Until now Jinpachi had always asked him to leave something on to help the redhead think of him as a woman; this was the first time his boyfriend had willingly expressed a desire to be with him completely naked.

Smiling, Issei quickly slipped out of his clothes and folded them neatly, laying them across the back of Jinpachi's desk chair. Progress indeed. Turning back the sheets, Issei climbed back into the bed and waited for his boyfriend, his soulmate, to join him.


	25. Chapter 25

The gardens were lovely of course; they always were. There was no 'winter' in the carefully regulated climate of the moon base, and with Mokuren around Enju was just as glad. She didn't like to contemplate what it would be like to be trapped in a small area with someone with Mokuren's powers as the plants all withered and died around her.

Having Mokuren present also meant that the plants and flowers grew lush and even more beautiful than they would naturally. Most of the inhabitants of the base enjoyed walking among the gardens on their off time.

Of course, Enju thought just a touch bitterly, for many of them that was more because they hoped to catch a glimpse of Mokuren singing to her beloved plants than out of any genuine appreciation for the gardens themselves. Enju had always loved the peace and serenity of gardens, but here on the base she found herself walking among them with a constant sense of apprehension. She never knew when she might turn a corner and find Gyokuran flirting with Mokuren.

It would be so much easier if she could just dislike Mokuren, Enju reflected to herself as she trailed her hand along the feathery fronds of a fern. If she could bring herself to see the other woman as an evil temptress who wouldn't be satisfied until she had the hearts of every male on the base, then it wouldn't hurt so much when Gyokuran continually ignored Enju in pursuit of a woman he could never have.

Nobody could dislike Mokuren, though. Certainly nobody with even an ounce of empathy could believe the woman was anything but graciously disinterested in anyone on the station but Shion. Mokuren did her best to discourage the attentions she received from the others. How could Enju blame Gyokuran for his fascination with a woman Enju herself couldn't dislike no matter how she tried?

That didn't make it hurt any less when Gyokuran turned away from her. Or worse, when he _didn't_ turn away from her, but the image she could see in his heart was of Mokuren.

As if her thoughts had conjured him up, she turned a corner on the path and ran straight into him. He caught her with a startled noise, preventing her from falling, his strong hands closing gently over her arms to hold her up. "Enju!" he exclaimed, and she could feel his happiness to see her through the contact they shared. In some ways that was the worst part; he did care for her in his own way, and if Mokuren hadn't been around she thought he eventually might have come to truly return her feelings.

"Hello Gyokuran," she said, composing herself quickly. He released her when she was steady on her feet, knowing she didn't enjoy unnecessary physical contact, and that helped her to hide the bitterness of the path her thoughts had been wandering on. "I didn't expect to see you out here. Aren't you supposed to be sleeping now?"

"I couldn't sleep," he confessed with a flash of the easy smile that had captured her heart so thoroughly. She felt a thrill of excitement and dismay as he lifted his hand and brushed a strand of hair from her face. She could feel his intentions in that brief moment of contact; he was going to seduce her. By now he knew exactly how best to go about it, with gentle touches here and there until she practically vibrated with her resonance to him. And she, fool that she was, could never bring herself to deny him.

"I'd hoped I might run into you out here," he added, and she bit her lip. He was a good liar; if she hadn't been an empath she'd have believed him. He hadn't been hoping to see her, he'd been hoping to see Mokuren. Since the object of his affections wasn't here, however, she apparently would do. As always.

"Lucky for me I decided to come out tonight, then," she replied lightly, shoving her hurt as deeply into her heart as she could manage. She would take what she could get of him, make one more memory to cling to in the time she spent alone.

"I haven't seen you in a few days," he said, brushing his hand along her cheek again. "I've missed you."

She could have said that he certainly knew where he could have found her if he'd missed her that much; in a space as small as the base was, you almost had to try in order to not see someone for several days running. She could have said that he could have contacted her through half a dozen methods and asked her to meet him, if he'd wanted to see her. She could have said many things, but she didn't. She only turned her head and nuzzled into his hand, saying nothing at all.

"Come back to my room with me," he cajoled, lifting his other hand to cup her face. Leaning down, he brushed his lips over hers, deliberately concentrating on the desire he felt as he touched her. The emotion was transferred to her through the contact and she shivered helplessly beneath him.

"Yes," she breathed as he pulled back. They both knew it was the only answer she could have given him.

He kept her hand in his as they made their way down the corridors to the sleeping quarters. Sometimes she wondered if he was afraid she would change her mind and bolt if she lost physical contact with him; he needn't have worried.

The moment the door closed behind them he had her up against it, kissing her fiercely and passionately. It had been over a week since the last time he'd had her, and she could feel the built up frustration within him. Gently she reached out and soothed his need and agitation, replying to it with her own love and desire. He wasn't an empath, but they'd been together often enough now that there was a link between them formed of her own powers. Feeling her need for him reassured him, though his kiss became no less urgent.

His hands moved to the fastenings of her clothes, deftly undoing them and pushing the material away from her body. Hers were no less sure on his clothes; they'd done this often enough that the actions were automatic, requiring no thought. That was just as well, because when he touched her like this all her higher brain functions tended to shut down.

All she could think about was the sure touch of his hands on her skin, the way he ran his fingers over her body as if he were playing an instrument, coaxing every possible nuance of sensation out of her. Caught up in her empathy, she could also feel her own hands gliding over him. It let her find all the best places to touch and tease, and to gauge her caresses to give him the most pleasure possible.

Sometimes she almost wished Mokuren would just give in and sleep with him. Surely when he realized how much better sex with an empath really was, he would return to her? If only it were that easy.

"You're beautiful," he murmured against her lips, then trailed his mouth down over her throat. She gasped, arching her head back to give him better access. His hands tightened around her waist and lifted her, and instinctively she wrapped her legs around his waist to support herself. He carried her to the bed, laying her gently on it and lowering himself to cover her. He should have been too heavy, but he held himself up just a bit on his arms and that was enough to let her breathe.

"Please," she gasped, arching up into him as he ran his mouth over her breast, sucking gently on her nipple and making sparks shoot all through her body. "Gyokuran, please." She couldn't get out anything more coherent than that, struggling to find words in the sea of emotions that threatened to swamp her.

She was already wet for him. How could she not be, when with every touch she could feel his arousal as well as her own? Opening the link between them, she let him share what she felt as well, and he gasped. Someday, she kept promising herself, she would let him take his time and take her the way he would anyone else, rather than rushing things by linking them like this. 'Someday' never came though, because as wonderful as it would have been to draw things out and make them last longer, she could never resist the lure of the sweetness of drowning in the sensations between them.

He entered her slowly, shaking with the restraint needed to hold himself back. The feel of him sinking inside her was enough to take her breath away, as it always did. Sensations rushed at her from both of their perspectives, and she could feel herself filling as well as being filled. Shusuran had asked her once what it felt like from the man's perspective, but Enju had never been able to describe it.

At the moment when he was as deep inside her as he could be he paused, looking down into her eyes in the dim light of his room. His lips moved: a name, though he put no breath behind the movement to give it sound. It wasn't 'Enju'... it never was. She also kept promising herself that someday she was going to look away before this moment so she wouldn't have to see him mouth someone else's name as he took her, but the all-consuming fire in his eyes kept drawing her to watch.

This time however, to her shock the name he silently whispered wasn't 'Mokuren'. She couldn't tell what it was, not that good at reading lips unless she already had an idea of what was being said. Curious despite herself - who _else_ could he possibly be thinking about? The name hadn't been 'Shusuran' either - she deepened the connection between them further.

Now images as well as sensations flooded her. She caught flashes of a dark-haired girl with gentle grey eyes, and though she was certain they'd never met the girl seemed oddly familiar to her. Gyokuran thrust into her and she cried out, the sweeping pleasure shattering the images into a million diamond-edged fragments. _Who?_ she projected the wordless query at him as strongly as she could, and as he thrust again he said the name again, loudly enough for her to hear him this time.

_"Issei..."_

Gasping with shock, Issei jerked awake and lay panting in the bed, struggling against the desire raging in his system. Waking in the middle of a dream of Enju and Gyokuran together always left him hard and achingly empty at the same time, the memory of Enju's need overlapping his own male responses. It made it hard to think, but he _needed_ to force himself into coherency. This was too important to lose in a haze of mindless hormones.

Beside him he could hear Jinpachi struggling for equanimity as well, his arms tightening around Issei. They were pressed close together in the small bed; Issei had come over for the second night in a row to escape the horrible heat in his own apartment.

A strong hand lifted to run over Issei's face, and he shivered. "Issei," the redhead murmured, his tone one of wonder. Still half caught in the dream, Issei heard his name overlaid with Gyokuran's voice saying "Enju," in the same awed tone.

That tone carried everything either Issei or his past self had ever wanted to hear; a dawning realization that everything Jinpachi or Gyokuran had wanted was already right there in his arms. Something broke inside Issei, or maybe it was something being mended that had already been broken for far too long. With a sob Issei threw himself into Jinpachi's embrace, their mouths meeting in a burst of shared passion.

The dream had already opened the connection between them as wide as it had ever been. Issei lost himself in it, feeling not just two sets of sensation but _four_. When Jinpachi's hand ran along his chest, he could feel the redhead's slightly rough fingers over the flat planes of muscle there, but he could also feel Gyokuran's hands tracing over the contours of Enju's soft breasts.

It was dizzying, and he wasn't sure from one moment to the next which perspective he was in. There was urgency in Jinpachi's touch, but there was also the love that Enju had never felt from Gyokuran. He latched onto that as a focus, using it to remind himself where and who he was.

"Please," he whispered, the words an echo of what Enju had said in the dream. "Jinpachi, please."

"Anything," the redhead answered hoarsely, leaning down to kiss him. "Anything, Issei. This time we're going to get it right, I promise."

"Then take me," Issei begged, hardly even aware of what he was saying. Some tiny part of him recognized that he was probably asking too much, that he would scare Jinpachi off again and ruin this timeless, wonderful moment. He couldn't help himself; he ached with Enju's need and his own, and could feel both Jinpachi's and Gyokuran's desire. It was too much and not enough all at once, and he felt like he might die if they didn't finish what had been started so long ago.

Jinpachi hesitated, and Issei felt his heart break when the redhead pulled away. "No," he ground out, and Issei could see what looked like burning determination in his eyes. "No, damn it. Not now, not like this."

Unable to help himself, Issei sobbed with need and the pain of rejection. Was this it, then? If Jinpachi couldn't take him when they were so closely bound to Gyokuran and Enju, would he ever be able to?

To Issei's surprise, his boyfriend leaned in and hushed his cries with a fierce kiss. "Not like this," Jinpachi repeated gruffly. "I want our first time to be because I want _you_ , not because I'm seeing her in you and fooling myself into thinking you're a girl. This is between me and you, Issei, _not_ Enju and Gyokuran."

Then he shocked Issei completely by reaching down between them and running his hand along Issei's weeping erection. The touch shattered the phantom of Enju that had been clinging to Issei, a sensation so intense and so uniquely male that the memory of his female self couldn't stand against it.

Suddenly it was just the two of them, Issei and Jinpachi alone together and firmly grounded in the present. "That's better," Jinpachi declared hoarsely, and leaned down to kiss Issei again. He didn't pull his hand away, and though his touch was hesitant Issei sensed no traces of repulsion in the other boy. Jinpachi would always prefer women to men and would probably never look twice at any other male, but Issei was female in all but the most important detail. And now, finally, Jinpachi had overcome his conditioned responses enough not to be scared off by that one difference.

"Yes," Issei said, arching up against him and throwing himself open to the connection between them. "Yes, please, Jinpachi. I'm yours, please."

"I'll hurt you," Jinpachi said, uncertainly. "Won't I? Damn it, Issei, I don't know what I'm doing. Isn't there something I'm supposed to do first, to keep from hurting you?"

Laughing breathlessly, Issei hooked his arms around the redhead's neck and leaned up to kiss him again. "You must have hand lotion or something," he said knowingly. He might have the soul of a female, but he'd had the body of a teenage boy. "That will be enough."

Groaning, Jinpachi somehow managed to push himself away from Issei and stumble out of the bed. Issei lay there aching for the feel of him, concentrating on steadying his breathing and trying to keep himself as contained as he could. A smile played briefly over his lips as he realized they were about to thoroughly test Jinpachi's assertion that a bit of empathic spillover wouldn't bother anyone in his dorm.

It felt like an eternity before his boyfriend finally returned, clutching a tube of hand cream. It wasn't the most ideal thing they could have used, and Issei made a mental note to find something more appropriate at the first opportunity. Right now he wasn't about to say 'stop' even if they hadn't had anything but spit to use as lubrication.

Jinpachi's hands were shaking as he fumbled with the cap, and Issei took it from him. He squeezed the cool lotion onto his hand, then looked up and met the redhead's eyes. Holding their gazes locked together, he reached down and smoothed the lotion over Jinpachi's cock, feeling the shock of the touch resonating in his own body through their link.

"Issei," Jinpachi breathed, and his eyes drifted shut as he fought for control. He swallowed hard, and Issei's breathing was no less ragged than his. "Gods, Issei."

"Yes," Issei said, in answer to the multitude of questions and pleas implicit in Jinpachi's tone. "Please, Jinpachi. Now."

He fell back against the pillows, looking up as Jinpachi positioned himself over him. He tried to put all of his trust and longing into his eyes to soothe the other boy's misgivings and apprehensions, and projected his love and desire over their link as strongly as he could. Jinpachi shuddered and leaned down so their foreheads rested together.

"As good as that feels, you might want to ease up a bit," he whispered hoarsely. "Or you're going to make me embarrass myself, damn it."

Laughing softly, Issei stopped trying so hard to share his feelings and just let the link connect them without any effort on his part. Jinpachi pressed against him, and Issei caught his breath at the sharp sense of pressure and almost pain.

Then it _was_ pain as Jinpachi forced himself inside, and they both cried out at the shared sensation. "Don't stop," Issei said, clutching at the other boy's shoulders. "Gods, don't you dare stop now!" It hurt, yes, but he could sense a promise of pleasure lurking behind the pain. If he could just let his body adjust to the sensation of being split nearly in half, or so it seemed, he was sure the pain would fade and leave nothing but the pleasure.

Taking a deep breath, Jinpachi eased himself further in. They were both trembling, and Issei did his best to focus on what Jinpachi was feeling rather than his own body. "You're so tight," the redhead gasped, rocking another half inch deeper inside him. "I can't believe... it feels so different. So good."

If Issei had ever wondered whether Jinpachi had already had experience with girls, that answered his question. He found he didn't care as much as he'd thought he might; Jinpachi was with _him_ now, and that was all that really mattered. The fact that he could feel Jinpachi's awe at the intensity of sensation created by being inside Issei didn't hurt, either.

Some lingering instinct of Enju's made him look up as Jinpachi came to rest all the way inside him at last, and the redhead looked back at him with dazed eyes. "Issei," he murmured, almost too soft to hear, and tears of joy welled up in Issei's eyes.

Immediately Jinpachi's expression turned to dismay. "You're crying! Damn it, I am hurting you too much. Issei..."

Laughing through his tears, Issei hushed him with a kiss. They both gasped as the movement rocked them together, every tiny shift causing a flood of sensation to pass between them. "It doesn't hurt," he assured his boyfriend, and he was speaking the truth. The worst of the pain had passed, leaving only a somewhat uncomfortable feeling of fullness. The promise of pleasure still lingered beneath, and he tilted his hips up to try to encourage Jinpachi to move.

Lowering his head to bury his face against Issei's shoulder, Jinpachi gave in to his urging and the needs of his own body. He withdrew almost all the way, making Issei gasp at the sudden feeling of emptiness. When he thrust back in again they both shuddered with the intense pleasure of it. Issei's tight heat felt indescribable wrapped around Jinpachi's cock, and the friction between their bodies where Issei's cock was trapped was enough to send spikes of pleasure shooting through him.

Slowly Jinpachi moved over him, his pace as deliberate as he could manage. They both wanted to draw it out, this first time between them, but they both knew neither of them was going to last long at this rate.

With a grunt Jinpachi changed his position slightly, altering the angle he was thrusting into Issei. On the next thrust Issei nearly screamed with sudden, unexpected pleasure, his vision going white at the edges with the sheer intensity of it. Jinpachi froze, trembling on the edge of release from the shared sensation, and they panted for air.

"It's a good thing your anti-conditioning worked, because I'm going to be completely ruined for anything else after _that_ ," Jinpachi choked out, making Issei laugh breathlessly. "What the hell was that?"

"Prostate," Issei told him, feeling dizzy with pleasure and need. "One small compensation for being stuck in this body. Do it again, Jinpachi!"

Unable to resist, Jinpachi pulled out and thrust in again, rubbing against the spot that sent ecstasy singing through their blood. And again, then once more, and then they were both lost in the sharp peak of orgasm shared between them.

Issei clutched at Jinpachi, totally lost in the ecstasy flooding through the link. For a long moment he completely lost track of himself, uncertain which of the sensations he was awash in were his and which were only shared.

They lay together for a long moment, the pleasure ebbing slowly and leaving only a sleepy lassitude and sense of extreme contentment between them. Issei felt like he could have happily stayed like that forever, if they could only have frozen that moment in time.

"What... what was that?" Jinpachi finally asked, lifting his head enough to look into Issei's eyes. The moonlight coming faintly through the blinds over the window was just enough for them to be able to see each other, and from the slightly bewildered look on the redhead's face Issei thought it was safe to assume he wasn't asking about the sex they'd just had. "That dream. Gyokuran was thinking of _you_. That can't have been a memory, can it?"

So Jinpachi had shared the same dream he had. Not surprising; they'd often shared the moon dreams even when sleeping apart in their own beds, and the close contact between their naked bodies now would have ensured they would dream together tonight.

No more certain of what had happened than his boyfriend was, Issei shook his head. "I don't know," he replied breathlessly, still partly lost in pleasure. "Until that last moment it was the same as one of the encounters between them we've already remembered together." He could have described in intimate detail every moment Enju and Gyokuran had ever shared, and that had definitely been one of them.

"I think," he finally ventured, trying to force his mind to work properly through the sensation of Jinpachi against him, "I think maybe our own subconscious minds leaked over into the dream, because the connection between us is so strong now. We've never shared a dream of them together when we were this close before, have we?"

"No," Jinpachi agreed, slowly withdrawing from him. Issei shivered with a sense of loss and sudden emptiness, and Jinpachi gathered him close in an impulsive hug. "No, the first time we dreamed of them having sex we were apart, and you never stayed at my house after that."

"I was too afraid of what I might do if you were right there in front of me when I woke up from that," Issei confessed, blushing as he lowered his eyes. "I could tell from the way you talked about it that you hadn't reacted as strongly as I had. That was when I first started to realize that my feelings about you might not be entirely appropriate."

He was surprised when Jinpachi ran a hand through his tangled hair, smoothing it back off his face. "And then you kissed me on the roof, and I broke your heart, didn't I?"

"You only finished what had already started," Issei whispered, unable to look at him. "Most of me knew I didn't have a chance with you. I just had to find out for sure, or I'd have spent my whole life wondering if it was only that you were as scared to say anything as I was."

"Issei. I'm sorry," Jinpachi said, rubbing their cheeks together briefly before pulling away. "There are so many ways I could have handled that better. Looking back on it now I could kick myself for the way I hurt you. Not just then, but damn near every day after that."

Taking a deep breath, Issei lifted his head and gave his boyfriend a watery smile. "It hurt, but maybe it was all for the best," he said softly. "If things hadn't happened the way they did, we might have kept our friendship but lost the chance for _this_."

Nodding slowly, Jinpachi looked down at him thoughtfully. They'd kicked the sheets off in their passion, and now Issei lay exposed before him. Jinpachi just looked at him for a long moment, and Issei held his breath, uncertain of what the emotions he was sensing meant.

Reaching out, Jinpachi tucked Issei's long dark hair back behind his body. "Jinpachi?" Issei asked uncertainly. Right now his hair was the only thing that made him look particularly feminine.

"I just... need you to be Issei instead of Isako for just a moment," Jinpachi murmured. "I need to know - and _you_ need to know - and I need to make this up to you."

Swallowing hard, Issei stayed still and let Jinpachi hide his hair. He was trembling, feeling exposed in a way that simply lying naked in front of his boyfriend hadn't made him feel. Finally Jinpachi stopped and just looked at him. Issei couldn't read his expression at all, his eyes shadowed with his thoughts.

He could have read the redhead's emotions through their link, of course, but Issei found he was too scared to do so. If Jinpachi concluded that he wasn't ready or willing to face Issei as he truly was, Issei didn't want to know about it.

Then, to his surprise, Jinpachi leaned in and kissed him, slow and gentle. "I love you, Issei," he said firmly, and Issei couldn't help but feel the wave of love Jinpachi projected at him. "I reacted like a childish asshole back then, but I'll make it up to you." He smiled ruefully as he put a little distance between them again. "I'll always be more comfortable when you're Isako, but at least now you know I'm not going to run away again."

"Thank you," Issei whispered, rolling onto his side and embracing the other boy tightly. Jinpachi had changed so much from the brash, thoughtless boy he'd been back then, and Issei loved him all the more for it.


	26. Chapter 26

The chill in the winter air was enough to make Issei pull his jacket tight around him and think longingly of the days in the summer when their air con had been broken. He'd always been sensitive to cold, and being outside in the winter made him miserable. It was the last day of classes before winter break, and he was supposed to meet Jinpachi at his dorm to help him take his bags to the bus.

He wasn't looking forward to having to spend weeks without Jinpachi. They'd become nearly inseparable, much to their friends' amusement and Issei's private joy. The only one who didn't tease them was Sakura, because she alone knew just how much the two of them had been forced to go through before they could finally be happy together.

Jinpachi wasn't outside or waiting for him in the lobby, but another boy who was leaving let Issei in through the door with a grin. Isako had become something of a fixture around Jinpachi's dorm, and if the empathic spill over from their encounters had caused any problems, Issei had never heard about it.

He smiled back at the other boy and made his way up to Jinpachi's floor. There had been some discussion of he and Sakura finding a larger apartment and having Jinpachi move in with them, but nothing was certain yet. Although Issei would be more than happy to have his two closest friends living with him, it would be understandably awkward for Sakura. Of course Issei and Jinpachi could always have gotten their own place together, but Issei didn't want to just leave Sakura alone like that.

None of it mattered until after winter vacation was over, he reminded himself. He and Sakura could talk about it once she got back from visiting her family. There was no sense in rushing into anything that might end up with one or more of them hurt.

As he approached Jinpachi's door he heard his boyfriend's voice, but nobody speaking in response. He tapped quietly on the door, then opened it and poked his head in curiously.

Jinpachi was standing by the window, the cool winter sunlight glinting off the red highlights in his hair. He turned and smiled at the sight of Issei, and the empath just stood in the doorway for a moment and drank in the sight of him. As often as he saw Jinpachi, he was still always struck by the sheer attractiveness of the other boy.

"Hey, Isako," the redhead greeted him. "C'mon in, make yourself comfortable. I'm almost ready... what?" The last had clearly been directed to the person on the other end of the line; Jinpachi was standing by the window in order to get better signal on his cell phone. "Yeah, that's her. She came to help me get my bags to the bus. You're coming to pick me up at the station, right? I don't want to have to lug this all home by myself."

Smiling, Issei moved forward and perched on the end of the bed, waiting for Jinpachi to be finished. It sounded like he was talking to his family, and memories of long-ago days spent over at his best friend's house returned to him. Jinpachi's family were just as exuberant and outgoing as he was, nothing like Issei's quiet and reserved mother or strict and stern father. He'd always loved spending time at Jinpachi's, and his friend's family had seemed fond of him as well. His smile widened as he remembered the redhead's mother frequently asking her son in exasperation why he 'couldn't be more like your quiet, polite friend'.

"Huh? Well, I guess so," Jinpachi was saying now, scratching at his head as he glanced at Issei. "I don't know what her plans are, but I'll ask her. No promises, though. Look, I have to go or I'm going to miss my bus. Try to make sure dad actually gets there on time to pick me up so I don't have to wait for half an hour again this year. Love you too."

He hung up and closed the cell phone, slipping it into his pocket. "You look pretty," he noted as he walked forward and leaned down to kiss Issei.

"You like it?" Issei blushed and smoothed down the soft wool of the off-white sweater he was wearing. "It was my Christmas present to myself. Probably more money than I should have spent, but it looked so good I couldn't resist."

"You need to treat yourself once in a while," Jinpachi agreed, running one hand briefly over his shoulder to feel the sweater as well. "Soft. But your skin is softer." He grinned, and kissed Issei again before straightening. "Much as I'd love to test the comparison for myself, if I get distracted I really am going to miss my bus."

"So let's get going," Issei suggested, and started gathering up any bags that looked small enough for him to be able to carry several of them. Jinpachi piled several on top of his wheeled suitcase, then slung his laptop bag over his shoulder and held the door open for Issei to exit. "How many bags do you need for a few weeks at home?" Issei asked, bemused.

"A lot of it is Christmas presents," Jinpachi laughed. "And there's plenty of homework in there, too. My professors seem to believe that the holiday season is an excellent opportunity for us to write papers."

"Mine too," Issei said, chuckling. "I think it's a universal thing. You'd think none of them ever cursed their teachers for giving homework over the breaks."

"Yeah. Listen," Jinpachi said as they entered the elevator and he hit the button for the ground floor. "What are you doing over the break? Are you going back to Sakura's?"

"No," Issei shook his head regretfully. "I'm invited, of course, I always am. But they don't actually know about me being 'Isako' now, and while they've been remarkably understanding in the past, I'm not sure I'm ready to face them just yet."

"So you're staying here by yourself? Over Christmas?" Jinpachi looked faintly horrified. "Aw damn, Issei, that's no good. Look, my mom asked me to invite you for Christmas dinner, but why don't you come for a couple of days? We've got a spare bedroom, and I know my parents wouldn't mind once they find out you don't have any family to go home to. What?"

The last question came because Issei had been staring at him in horror. "No! Absolutely not!" he exclaimed, his voice cracking in distress. "Jinpachi, are you crazy? I can't go to your house, not even for dinner. What if your parents recognize me?"

"They won't," Jinpachi shrugged, looking puzzled at his concern. The elevator arrived at the ground floor and he hauled his bags out into the lobby, Issei trailing along behind like a stunned puppy. "What's the big deal, Isako? You're going to have to meet them eventually. They want to meet my girlfriend."

With a soft moan, Issei briefly closed his eyes. Jinpachi was right, his parents were going to want to meet his girlfriend eventually. They longer they stayed together, the more the Ogura family would press to be introduced to him at least. "How many nights did I spend at your house, Jinpachi? If they recognize me, they'll throw a fit! What if they disown you?" Memories of his own coming out and his father's reaction were still painfully fresh, and he didn't think they would ever stop hurting.

"I dunno, lots of nights," Jinpachi shrugged, uncaring. "We were kids, Isako. Trust me, you don't look anything like you did then. _I_ would never have recognized you, except I could feel the connection between us and it made me suspicious. I doubt even your own parents would recognize you now."

"But..." Issei trailed off, helpless. There was no good answer to this, he knew. Sooner or later he was going to have to face Jinpachi's family, and he doubted time would make him feel any more ready to face them. What if he slipped up, and seemed more familiar with them or their house than he should be?

For that matter, what would happen when they eventually expected Issei and Jinpachi to get married and produce grandchildren? In all his calculating to figure out what it would take for him and Jinpachi to be able to stay together, he'd completely forgotten to account for Jinpachi's family.

"Hey, stop that," Jinpachi said softly, catching him by the shoulders and leaning down to kiss him briefly, uncaring of the people who giggled or gave them disapproving looks for the public display. "Don't worry about it, all right? I promise, I _swear_ , everything will be okay. They aren't going to recognize you, you're not going to screw up, and we'll work out everything else when we come to it."

Taking a deep breath, Issei gave him a wry look. "Since when do you read minds?" he asked. "Am I rubbing off on you more than I realized?"

"I just know you really well, but you can rub off on me any time," came the expected leering retort, and he couldn't help chuckling. "Seriously," Jinpachi continued. "Come for dinner at least? They really want to meet you, I'm always talking about you."

"Really?" That made Issei blush. Not that he wasn't always talking about Jinpachi to pretty much anyone who would listen, but still. "I... I'll think about it, okay? I'll call you when it gets closer to Christmas."

They both knew that was as good as an agreement. Jinpachi smiled and squeezed his hand, then picked up the bags he'd dropped. "Come on, now I really don't want to miss my bus."

Somehow they managed to get Jinpachi and all his bags to the station on time, and even a few minutes early. The terminal was crowded with students going in all directions for the holidays. Jinpachi had a relatively short way to go compared to most of them, since he just lived in a different district of Tokyo rather than outside the city itself. To Issei's embarrassment and delight, Jinpachi kissed him again firmly before boarding the bus. "Please come for dinner," he entreated as he pulled away, holding Issei's hands. "I'd really love to have you there. And it'll bug me, thinking of you alone here on Christmas."

"All right," Issei finally gave in, hoping he wasn't making a colossal mistake. "I'll take the us to your place on Christmas morning. Have a good holiday, Jinpachi."

"You too," his boyfriend said. "Love you, Isako. I'll see you on Christmas."

With that he was gone, vanishing into the bus as part of the crowd of students. Issei stood on the platform watching as the bus finished loading and drove away, staring down the street after it for several minutes after it had vanished.

"Sarjareem, what have I agreed to?" Issei wondered aloud as the impact of it truly hit him. He was going to have to meet Jinpachi's parents - not as a friend this time, but as a _girlfriend_. As the girl Jinpachi was planning to spend the rest of his life with, in fact, even if they hadn't made that part in any way official yet.

Panic began to set in. He _had_ to make a good first impression. Never mind the worry about them recognizing him - what if they didn't _like_ him? What if they thought he was too forward, or not suitable because he didn't come from a good family, or...

Turning, he bolted for home, running as fast as he could. There was only one person who could help him now.

"Sakura!" he called as he burst through the front door of their apartment. He knew she was supposed to be home, since she'd invited her boyfriend over to help her pack just as Jinpachi had invited Issei. Sakura's bus wasn't scheduled to leave until later tonight. "Sakura! Where are you?"

A moment's concentration with his shields lowered slightly told him she was in her room with her boyfriend. He didn't bother looking any further than that, kicking off his shoes and running down the hall to her door. "Sakura!" he cried as he threw the door open and stood panting in the doorway, his hair windblown and his eyes panicked.

There was a muffled shriek, then Sakura jumped up from where she'd been sitting on her boyfriend's lap at her computer chair. She spun to face Issei, clutching her shirt in the centre of her chest and staring at her roommate in bemusement and irritation. The irritation faded as she saw the genuine panic in his eyes. "Isako?" she asked, taking a step towards him. "What's wrong? Did something happen to Ogura? You two didn't have a fight, did you?"

Wordlessly Issei shook his head, his throat too tight to speak for a moment. "He talked me into going to Christmas dinner at his house," he finally squeaked out. "His parents want to meet me. Sakura, what am I going to _do_?"

Biting her lip, Sakura looked like she wasn't sure whether to yell at him or burst out laughing. "You're going to go calm down, first of all. Then I'm going to call my parents and tell them I decided to come home tomorrow night instead, and tomorrow we'll go out shopping and you _will_ let me buy you a pretty dress, okay?" Seeing that he was still in danger of hyperventilating, she sighed and shook her head. "Isako. Breathe, love. Slowly, okay? It's not the end of the world. Everything will be fine."

"I... I..." Giving up on speech for a moment, Issei decided to just follow her advice and concentrate on breathing. This once he wasn't going to argue with her if she wanted to buy him clothes, because the gods knew _he_ didn't have anything appropriate and he'd already spent the extra money from this month's budget on the sweater he was wearing. Besides which, Sakura seemed to have a knack for finding outfits that somehow looked beyond fabulous on him.

"All right," he finally agreed, a little dizzy but calmer than he had been. "We'll go shopping."

"Yes. Tomorrow," Sakura said firmly, and Issei nodded. When he continued to just stand in the doorway, however, she gave an exasperated sigh. "That was short for 'so go _away_ right now', Isako! I'm a little busy."

Issei blinked, and then blushed as his mind stopped panicking and he actually took in her disheveled appearance and the fact that she was carefully standing between him and her boyfriend. He was peering around her with a curious and amused look on his face, and he was just as mussed as Sakura. "Oh. OH! Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry," Issei blurted out, mortified. "I... I'll just... go to my room and... and not pack, shall I? Er."

Before he could make any more of an idiot of himself he fled the room, hearing Sakura's soft laughter behind him. His face felt like it was on fire, and he cursed himself for not paying just a little more attention to what his empathy was telling him beyond 'she's in her room'.

 

* * *

Issei was literally shaking with nerves as he walked up the path to the Ogura home. They had a little house on the outskirts of Tokyo, in a pleasant neighbourhood full of similar houses. It was familiar in a way that should have been comforting, but just made him all the more nervous that Jinpachi's family was going to recognize him.

He hadn't called ahead, choosing to walk from the station in order to give himself a chance to clear his head. It had been a walk filled with memories. Here was their old school, where they'd first met Alice and realized they weren't the only people with dreams of another life on the moon. There was the playground they'd spent so many, many hours in as younger children. Issei could only be grateful that his own family's house lay in another area completely, so he didn't have to walk by it as well.

Trying to steady his hands, he reached out and rang the doorbell. There had been a time when he would have just knocked once and then walked inside, but that was a long time ago and, as far as the Ogura were concerned, an entirely different person.

There was the sound of thundering footsteps from within, and a muffled 'I'll get it!' from what sounded like Jinpachi's youngest brother. The door was flung open to reveal a boy with hair more gold than Jinpachi's strawberry blonde, but with the same eyes. Issei was taken aback; of course, the last time he'd seen Ogura Satoshi, the boy had still been in junior high. Now he was as tall as his brother, probably a senior in high school. His resemblance to Jinpachi made Issei smile.

"Oh, you must be nii-san's girlfriend," he said, grinning with Jinpachi's lopsided smile. "He said you might be coming today... he's been wearing a hole in the carpet, waiting for you to call."

"I have not!" came an indignant protest from further down the hall, and Issei had to chuckle. Jinpachi grabbed his brother around the neck and twisted him down into a headlock, ruffling his hair aggressively as the younger boy shouted and squirmed. "Brat. That'll teach you to speak ill of your elders. Go help Kimiko set the table."

He released his brother, who straightened and smoothed his hair back into place with an aggrieved look at his older brother. "Remind me again how you managed to get such a pretty girlfriend?" he asked, glancing at Issei who blushed. "If he told you he was rich or something to convince you to go out with him, he was lying."

"Satoshi! Get lost," Jinpachi cried, shoving his brother by the shoulders. "C'mon in, Isako. Here, let me get your coat. I was starting to think you weren't coming after all - I've been calling your cell for the last hour or so."

"I forgot to charge it before I left," Issei said apologetically, shrugging out of his jacket and offering it to his boyfriend. He blinked when Jinpachi made no move to take it, then chuckled and blushed with pleasure when he realized it was because Jinpachi was staring at him. "Like what you see?"

"Wow," was Jinpachi's only somewhat coherent response. "You look... damn, Isako. You didn't have to dress up that much. I'm going to be fighting by brothers off you with a stick."

Smiling, Issei twirled once to make his skirt flare around him. Sakura had outdone herself, and had refused to let him even look at the price tag of the dress she'd bought. It was black, with silver trimming that made his eyes look silver as well. The off-white silk top he wore open at the front over it kept him warm, and also hid the straps of the necessary bra where they were left exposed by the backless dress. No strapless bras for Issei, unfortunately.

"You're beautiful," Jinpachi said, catching him as he finished the turn and kissing him, careful not to smudge his lipstick. "You have nothing to worry about," he assured Issei under his breath as he drew back slightly and smiled down at him. "They're going to love you, and it's never even going to enter their minds that you might not be what you seem."

"Just don't screw up my name in front of them!" Issei whispered back, his eyes pleading. Jinpachi had never yet forgotten to call him Isako when they were around anyone but Sakura, but if he was ever going to make a mistake it would be now.

"Mom! Jinpachi-nii is making out with his girlfriend in the front hall!" A playful deep voice called from behind them, making Issei jump. Peering over Jinpachi's shoulder, he saw the middle Ogura son grinning back at him. He had inherited their father's darker colouring, but his smile was exactly the same as both of his brothers'.

"I am not, Kyousuke, get lost," Jinpachi growled, turning and making a rude gesture at his little brother. "Don't you have anything better to do than bug us?"

"Nope," the younger boy declared cheerfully. His voice was even deeper than Jinpachi's, Issei marvelled. Maybe it wasn't going to e as difficult as he'd thought to treat his boyfriend's siblings like strangers. It made him wonder what his own little sister was like now, how she might have grown up.

"Mom says dinner is almost ready, and you should come sit down," Kyousuke added, turning on his heel and heading back into the house towards the dining room.

"I didn't realize you'd be having dinner so early," Issei said as Jinpachi finally took his jacket to hang it up. "It was horribly rude of me to just show up like this." It had seemed like a good idea not to call ahead at the time, but now he was worried what Jinpachi's parents would think of him for just dropping in unannounced like this.

"It's not a big deal," Jinpachi assured him, leading him to the dining room. "You know what my family is like, we can't keep to a schedule to save our lives," he added in a low voice. "Stop _worrying_."

Then they were into the dining room, and Issei found himself surrounded by the cheerful enthusiasm that seemed to be a hallmark of the entire Ogura family. Jinpachi introduced her as 'Nakayama Isako', of course, and then reeled off the names of his parents, little sister, and two little brothers. In short order Issei was seated and had a plate of food in front of him, and was surrounded by laughing, chattering people.

He'd forgotten how loud dinner with the Ogura family could be. It took him a while to relax and get used to it, but it helped that Jinpachi's mother persisted in trying to draw him out and reassure him.

By the end of the first hour, he'd stopped worrying about them recognizing him. Jinpachi had been right that there was no reason for them to suspect that their eldest son's girlfriend Isako might be the same boy Issei that he'd played with as a youth. By halfway through the second hour, he'd relaxed enough to really join in the conversation and get in a few teasing comments of his own. By the time dinner was over and Jinpachi's mom was bringing out the dessert, he felt almost like he'd come home.

"See? I told you it wouldn't be so bad," Jinpachi grinned and murmured in his ear, leaning over him as he passed the bowl of whipped cream to go on top of the pecan pie slices they'd all been given.

"You were right," Issei agreed shyly. "Thank you for convincing me." Jinpachi just smiled wider and caught his hand out of sight under the table, squeezing it briefly.

Something in his boyfriend's expression as Jinpachi turned back to the table, however, made the knots in Issei's stomach return in force. Or maybe it wasn't his expression so much as a sudden wave of _something_ over their link... and the realization, when he reached out to prod at it, that Jinpachi was shielding as hard as he could.

"Jinpachi," he started, his voice slightly panicked. Jinpachi threw him a grin and a wink, which was _not_ reassuring, and cleared his throat.

When that didn't make the least bit of impact in the three or four simultaneous loud conversations happening around the table, he tried shouting. "Hey!"

Everyone stopped and looked at him curiously, and he grinned back at them. Issei sank a little lower in his seat and tried not to hyperventilate. What was he planning?

"Thanks," Jinpachi said ironically when everyone was finally silent. "I was planning to save this until after the Christmas break, but since Isako agreed to come over for dinner this seems like as good a time as any."

"Jinpachi," Issei said again, warningly this time. The rest of his boyfriend's family were now looking on in amusement and anticipation as Jinpachi turned in his seat to face Issei.

"Isako," the redhead said softly, looking down into his grey eyes. _Don't_ , Issei begged silently. _Don't you dare..._

"I know we've only been together less than a year," Jinpachi continued, ignoring Issei's silent pleading. "But I already know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you." Issei thought his heart would stop when Jinpachi reached into his pocket and came out with a white gold diamond engagement ring. "Isako, will you marry me?"

"You... I... Are you..." _crazy?_ Issei wanted to finish, but that didn't seem very diplomatic to say in front of Jinpachi's family. The redhead just sat there grinning at him, his family waiting expectantly for Issei's answer, and Issei felt like his brain had completely shut off.

Finally he swallowed and managed to get his voice to work. "Ex-excuse us for a moment," he stammered, and grabbed Jinpachi by the hand. He was stronger than he looked, and Jinpachi was startled enough that he didn't fight too hard as Issei hauled him out of the chair and right out of the dining room.

"What are you _doing_?" he hissed the moment he judged they were out of earshot, pushing Jinpachi back against the wall and glaring at him through humiliated tears. "Is that supposed to be _funny_?"

"What? Hey! Issei..." Jinpachi looked startled, then genuinely dismayed. "No, of course it's not supposed to be funny. I wouldn't do that to you."

"Then what is going on in your head?" Issei asked, dismayed. "We _can't_ get married, you know that! How are you going to explain it to them when they want to know why we've let our engagement drag on forever?"

"We're going to face questions about why we haven't gotten married yet sooner or later anyway," Jinpachi pointed out with a shrug.

"Yes, but we could have put it off for years!" Issei exclaimed, struggling to keep his voice low. "We could have said we were waiting to get serious until after we graduated, or until after I got my doctorate, or until you were established at your job, and _then_ we could have dragged the engagement out for years... you've just sped that up by at least five years!"

"Well, we could always do what they expect and just get married," Jinpachi said, an odd light in his eyes. Issei still couldn't read him, but he didn't think he'd have been able to concentrate past his own distress anyway.

"That's not funny," he declared, now trying to pull away. Jinpachi had caught his hand and wasn't letting him go, though he did let Issei back up until he was the one with his back to the wall and Jinpachi had him cornered.

"It's not funny because it wasn't a joke," Jinpachi said, and now he was totally serious. He reached into his pocket again, and this time drew out an envelope. "Here," he said, proffering it to Issei. "Merry Christmas."

With shaking hands Issei took the envelope, not sure he wanted to know what was inside. Curiosity got the better of him, and he opened it and withdrew the sheet of paper inside.

It was a copy of a birth certificate. His birth certificate, in fact... except that it listed his name as Nakayama Isako, and indicated that the sex of the baby was female. "I... I don't understand," he said, his voice shaking as badly as his hands as he looked up at Jinpachi again.

Now the redhead looked slightly nervous. "I hope you don't mind," he said. "I asked Rin to help. He broke into the records and changed all the files. Officially, you are Nakayama Isako and always have been. It'll stand up to anything but a doctor's examination."

Speechless, Issei just stared at him. It took him so long to find his voice that Jinpachi grew visibly worried. "Issei? Are you mad at me for telling Rin? I didn't think you'd mind, I mean he knows about you and Enju, and he's just as happy to have me officially out of the way as competition for Alice. Issei? Say something, please?"

"We can..." Issei's voice cracked, and he cleared his throat as tears came into his eyes. That made Jinpachi look even more panicked, and Issei shook his head. "We can get married?" he finally managed to whisper, disbelieving.

"Yeah," Jinpachi nodded. "Nobody will ever know. If we decide we want kids eventually we can always adopt, but I'm not in any rush." He grimaced at the thought, and Issei gave a shaky laugh. Personally he thought Jinpachi would be a wonderful father, but he wasn't sure how he felt about being a mother.

"So, does that mean your answer is yes?" the redhead asked hesitantly, proffering the ring once more. Issei stared at it, then at him, tears tracking slowly down his face.

"Yes," he finally managed to whisper, beyond merely 'overjoyed'. Jinpachi lifted his hand and slipped the ring onto his finger; it fit perfectly. "Jinpachi..."

"I promised you we were going to get it right this time," Jinpachi said, hugging him fiercely. "Enju and Gyokuran's mistakes are in the past. We've waited through two lifetimes to be together; I want the whole world to know you're mine."

Nodding wordlessly, Issei buried his face in Jinpachi's shoulder. Short of having someone wave a magic wand and turn him into a girl, this was literally everything he'd ever dreamed of having. _Sarjareem..._ He couldn't even put his gratitude into words. As much as it had hurt to get to this point, it had all been worth it.

"Thank you," he finally whispered, and he let it serve as thanks to Jinpachi and Sarjareem both.


End file.
